


Children Aren't Dangerous

by TooMuchChocolate



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bad Parenting, Coming of Age, Damaged teenagers, Dark, F/F, F/M, Forbidden Love, Love Triangles, M/M, Multi, True Love, Unrequited Love, War, badass females
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-01-15 04:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12313494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooMuchChocolate/pseuds/TooMuchChocolate
Summary: Ben never sent for Mal or the VKs. Instead, the villains escaped the Isle of the Lost and are wreaking havoc in Auradon. Only they didn't see fit to bring their children: the VKs remain trapped on the Isle. In her mother's absence Mal has risen to power and is now Queen of the Isle, and she's not satisfied. She wants to show her mother, and the world, that she is not to be overlooked. But she's going to need a little help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda dark and mature. A few years have passed since their parents left so the VKs are older teenagers if that makes anyone feel better. Just having fun here.

Mal smacked the saloon doors open and walked in. Everyone in the fish and chip shop fell silent. Scraggly haired pirates and dock wenches of all ages hunched into their seats and gave each other nervous glances. What was the Queen of the Isle doing in unfriendly territory?  

Mal smiled, showing teeth. She coolly stalked past the mismatched tables and chairs. Jay was by her side. Swords were in scabbards on their belts, ready for use. He scowled at everyone and everything, looking for threats to his leader, trusting nothing to chance. On a dais at the back of the shop there was a high backed chair made out of twisted driftwood and fans of dried coral and starfish. The chair was a throne; and draped in it was Uma. Without fear she watched Mal approach, her ankles crossed and chin propped up by her hand. Mal stopped to stand before her and cocked her hip.

“Your Majesty,” Uma laughed, "This is a surprise. What do we owe the honor?”

“This is my Isle. I can go anywhere. Do anything,” Mal replied, “Even visit old friends.”

She side glanced at Harry Hook, who sat at a nearby table, turning his hooked hand this way and that so the metal caught the light. Harry gave a maniacal grin. “We aren’t yer friends”.

Mal couldn’t help it. “No? Shame. And we used to be so _close_.”

Jay snorted. Harry’s blue eyes flashed dangerously and his hand went to the pummel of his sword. Uma’s fingernails dug into the arms of her chair as she tried to keep her cool. Mal was pleased at the effect this dig still had. She had once tried to seduce Uma’s First Mate away from her and leave her weakened. Harry had almost fallen for it – fallen for Mal – and Uma would probably never forget it.

“But I didn’t come to talk about the past. Let’s talk business,” Mal said.

“Don’t need to,” Uma said, flicking her fingers, “I’m doing just fine. My crew work the docks, serve customers in the shop…”

Mal’s smile gained a dangerous edge. “and raid the businesses under my control.”

Uma put a hand to her chest, making a show of being hurt. “Your Majesty. I would never. Would I Hook?”

“Uma is a blessed saint!” Harry declared to the heavens. A rumble of laughter went through the shop. Jay turned his head sharply and the noise choked off.

“You’re telling me that this,” Mal looked about her with disdain, “is all you desire? This is the height of your ambition?”

Uma tipped back her tri-fold hat and leaned forward, staring intensely at Mal. “Well I did have a job in mind, but it’s currently filled. Who knows? Maybe someday soon it’ll be vacant…”

Mal stepped closer, holding the pirate queen’s gaze, her green eyes turning eerily greener.

Uma squinted and held the connection for an admirable amount of time but a primeval instinct finally compelled her to look away. Uma sniffed and flipped her turquoise braids over her shoulder. “What do you want, Mal?”

“Aye,” a lilting voice said into her ear, “What does the little witch want?”

Harry stood behind her and glided the point of his hook through Mal’s curtain of purple hair, the act disturbingly threatening.

“Hey,” Jay yelled, “Step back or lose another limb!”

Harry held up his hands in surrender, chuckling darkly. He gave a mock bow in apology. A whirl of his tattered red coat and he sat on the dais steps. He’d put himself between Uma and danger, and Mal made note of it.

Jay stood closer to Mal, arms crossed so that his muscles bulged, trying to make up for his slip.

Mal sighed. “Why do you insist on being childish, Uma? We shouldn’t be squabbling among ourselves.”

“What, I should work for you? Yeah right.”

“We should work _together_. That’s how the VK’s _parents_ ,” Mal spat the word, “managed to get off this rock.”

“ _Your_ parents. Not mine,” Uma’s eyes went black and pitiless, and her grin was wide as a shark’s, “Have a plate of calamari before you go, Your Majesty. On the house – I’ve got barrels of the stuff to get rid of.”

Mal kept her face blank but her stomach flipped queasily.

Everyone knew the story. While the other villains temporarily broke the barrier and sneaked out in the dead of night, Ursula went to retrieve something first. The sea witch wanted her seashell necklace back from Uma. The necklace was a useless trinket on the Isle of the Lost but in Auradon it was the source of Ursula’s magic, her power. And as Ursula snatched it from her daughter’s neck, she freely admitted to the villains' escape plan. She laughed at how her daughter would be stuck on the Isle washing dirty dishes forever.

Arguably, Ursula had treated Uma worse than any other villain had treated their child. Instead of raising her daughter to be her protégé, lieutenant or even a henchman – Ursula forced her daughter to be a lowly waitress and serve bile day in and day out.

Ursula’s abandonment proved too much. As her mother laughed and her tentacles writhed with glee, Uma picked up a filleting knife. People later found her in a kitchen painted black with ink, still holding the knife and wearing the necklace once again, the shell glowing faintly.

Uma sensed the unease she’d caused and leaned back in her chair, satisfied she’d gotten her own back from the jibe about Harry.

Mal raised her chin. Uma may be her biggest rival but that didn’t make her Mal’s equal. “Stay here then,” she said coldly, “and continue playing at pirate when you can’t even sail the seas. I thought you might have your sights set further than the Isle, but I guess I was wrong. Send word if that changes, Shrimpy.”

She tugged the jagged collar of her leather jacket up and turned on her heel, Jay following. She felt the heated brand of Uma’s eyes on her as she walked.

As soon as they were out of the shop and on the jetty Mal seized Jay’s shoulders and kneed him hard in the stomach. Jay’s breath was knocked out of him. He’d seen the move coming and done nothing to defend himself.

“If I want my back covered I should take a bloody boomerang to throw over my shoulder,” Mal hissed, “Never let Hook creep up on me like that again.”

Jay ignored the pain and straightened. He nodded. “My bad.”

She rolled her eyes and went in the direction of home. Mal couldn’t wait to take a bath. The smell of fish guts and rotting seaweed had gotten to her.

From behind barrels and out of shadows, her goons and minions showed themselves and she gave the signal that they weren’t needed. There wouldn’t be a fight today. Uma had been as gracious a host as could be expected and in any case, Mal had achieved her objective. She’d planted the seed and it would take time before it bore fruit. The idea of teamwork was not easily swallowed by most VKs.

Mal’s thoughts drifted, as it did every day, to the barrier and the world beyond. A world she’d never stepped foot on. The one her mother had deserted her for.

Her hands rolled into fists at her sides. Her eyes glowed with green fire.

“Just wait,” she whispered.

                                                                                 3333333333333333333333

Not long after Mal left, Uma had snapped at Gil to chase everyone out of the shop before telling him to piss off as well. Gil had obeyed of course, but not before throwing her his wounded puppy look. The place was now deserted and she was free to slump in her throne and brood.

Harry swaggered out of the kitchen with a bottle under his arm and gripping two shot glasses with his fingers. “Don’t panic, I’m here. Nearly slipped on a puddle of fat but I survived.”

“If you could bring the booze without bringing yourself, that would be preferable,” Uma muttered.

Harry smacked his butt down beside the throne. He crossed his legs and faced Uma. He winked as he pulled the cork out of the nondescript brown bottle. He took a sniff and pretended to swoon with pleasure. The smell of fizz was gut churning. No alcohol was brought over by the supply boats so the Isle folk distilled it themselves using rotten fruit. The result was ‘fizz’, a disgusting drink that killed lesser men. It was an excellent way to prove what you were made of.

Harry pored the fizz, the brown liquid sizzling as it sloshed into the glasses. He gave one to Uma. “Here you go Captain. To Queen Mal,” Harry announced, raising his own shot, “Quick may she fall over and die.”

The barest smile touched her lips before she threw back her head and emptied the glass. Part of the test was not making a face after, though the fizz burned down your throat and left behind the worst taste on earth. Uma never made a face.

Harry ahhhed after his shot and began refilling. “What do ye think she’s after? She can’t really expect ye to be her ally.”

“She didn’t use the word ‘ally’,” Uma said thoughtfully, “I don’t know. She’s planning something.”

“The barrier. The witch thinks she’s as bad as her ma and can break through the barrier.”

She shook her head. “Can’t be done.”

He popped back another shot and she did the same. He trailed the wicked point of his hook over his glass, seeming mesmerized with the screeching sound. “Still. It would be fun to see Pa again. And my sisters.”

Uma eyed him. The day Harry had discovered Captain Hook gone, and that he’d taken his daughters along for the adventure, he’d finally done what he’d always said he would. He chopped off his hand and replaced it with a metal hook just as wicked as his father’s. Uma couldn’t understand that, but she did understand why Harry looked forward to a family reunion with impatience.

“Run along then,” Uma growled, throwing her glass and smashing it on the floor, “Go be Mal’s pet in the hope she finds a way out of here. When she does, she can pull you to Auradon by your leash.”

Harry startled. He crawled to stand on his knees in front of her. “That’s not what I meant. Mal can go to hades. Or we can use her to get what we want. I don’t care either way. _You_ are my Captain. And we ride with the tide.”

He stroked her bare leg with his hand, his kohl lined eyes fixed on her. She raised her leg to kick him away but he caught her foot and placed it to rest over his shoulder. He kissed the smooth brown skin just above her ankle length boot, mischief written all over his face. Uma glared, but did nothing more.

“Yer going to command the seas one day Uma.”

He hooked her other ankle within the curve of his hook. He slowly spread her legs wider. Peppering kisses up her leg, he edged his body closer. His lips hovered dangerously near her inner thigh and the strips of her skirt barely protecting her modesty. “And I’m going to be by yer side to see it.”

“You’ll have a hard time seeing anything down there,” Uma smirked.

Harry ran his tongue over his upper teeth. “Just a quick detour, please Captain…”

She closed her legs and stood up in one smooth motion. Harry groaned, grabbing her hips and nudging her stomach with his head. She slapped his hands away and brushed past him.

“Clean that shit up,” Uma pointed at the broken pieces of glass and left the shop, turquoise braids swishing behind her.

Harry flopped onto his back with a sigh and reached for the fizz bottle. He took a long swig.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a result of the kind feedback and kudos I received :)

_She’s standing on the shore of a lake. She doesn’t know how she got here but for some reason this isn’t concerning. The water is a stretch of gleaming sapphire, purer than the sky, and heartbreakingly beautiful. She could look at it for hours. She breathes in a sense of great contentment._

_Mal jumps._

_Contentment?_

_That word felt wrong, practically immoral. But here in this peaceful place it was hard to recall why that might be._

_“Mal.”_

_She turns at the warm, familiar voice._

_A handsome young man appears out from the pine trees, softly smiling. He has a strong jaw, honey brown hair and hazel eyes. But most distinctively, he exudes a kindness that makes her want to lean into him and take comfort._

_Mal cocks her head. Kindness? Comfort? What in hades…_

_He frowns at her expression and crosses to her side in an instant. “What is it? What’s wrong?”_

_At the brush of his knuckles on her cheek, she almost closes her eyes in bliss._

_“Nothing,” Mal says, smiling._

_He grins back. His hand goes to hers and squeezes. “Come on.”_

_He leads her along the edge of the lake, looking back at her as if they share a secret. Mal glances at her reflection in the mirror-clear water. The figure she sees, graceful and lovely, disturbs her so much that she shatters like a pane of glass._

Mal’s eyes flew open.

She stared at the cracked plaster on the ceiling. It was morning; she could tell because thin walls couldn’t keep out the street vendors’ unholy racket.

“Not again,” she mumbled.

That dream was going to drive her insane. And not in a fun way.

She untangled herself from the sheets and got up from the iron cast bed that used to be her mother’s. Maleficent had the bedroom decked out in black when she used it, but now the walls were a mix of purple paint, electric green graffiti and holes in the plaster where Mal had taken a sledge hammer to the place after her mother left.

Yawning, she stumbled into the living room. A misshapen creature was sprawled on the couch. Mal stopped and blinked hard to bring it into focus. An untamed mass of blue hair was under a tasselled cushion. Limbs were at odd angles. And a ratty t-shirt was visible, badly matched with underwear that was barely more than a strip of blue lace.

“You haven’t gone home yet?” Mal growled.

An undecipherable mumble was the only answer. Mal stomped to the coffee table and the jumble of papers and books there. “You haven’t even looked these over yet have you?”

Sullen silence.

Mal rubbed her eyes. Evie’s sentimental collapses were among the top ten things she hated. Mal moved the cushion aside to see that she was wide awake.

“We were going to live in a castle,” Evie rasped, brown eyes staring at nothing, “She was going to help me snag the richest, most perfect prince in all the kingdoms.”

Having heard all this before Mal concentrated on putting papers in order.

Evie’s lips stretched into a bitter smile. “Everyone in Auradon was going to be a twitching mess at our feet. And she left that all behind.”

“No. Just you.”

“Bitch,” Evie said, either to Mal or her mother. “I had a future. She prepared me for it my whole life and – “

“Yep. Our mothers screwed us over.”

Evie sat up, eyeliner smudged and lipstick smeared up one cheek, looking like the living dead. “And I suppose you just want me to get over it?” she sneered.

Mal slammed her palms onto the coffee table. “No! I _want_ you to stop whining like a little girl. I _need_ you to do your job and look over these books Evie, these books that have my whole kingdom in the pages!”

The two glared at each other. Evie’s face was twisted with resentment, as if it was Mal’s fault she was unhappy, that her efforts to get Evie to do something, anything, were done to hurt her. “Go to hades, _Your Majesty_. I’m not your bookkeeper.”

Mal stepped onto the table and launched at Evie, papers flying and books crashing to the floor. Evie yelped and tried to buck her off but Mal grabbed her arms and held on. “You _are_ my bookkeeper,” Mal snarled into her face, “You’re my chemist, my assistant, my best friend, my right hand and anything else I wish you to be.”

Evie raked her nails down Mal's arms. Mal wrestled her off the couch and they both slammed into the hard floor with Mal pining her down, subduing her fit of rage without really trying. Mal was better in a fight than the blue haired vixen had been raised to be. Evie was gnashing her teeth and trying to bite down on whatever she could reach when big leather boots were suddenly right by her head.

“Girl fight,” Jay gave a Cheshire Cat grin, “Girl fight with _royalty_. Girl fight with royalty in _underwear_.”

Mal gave Evie a last shove before getting up and giving him a look. “Get her cleaned up and moving. I don’t care what it takes. Show her a mirror, that should get her off her ass.”

She stepped over Evie’s body and went to the fridge. She ignored the others and had breakfast: red cordial, half a can of refried beans and a spotted banana. Evie sat back on the couch with Jay next to her, arm awkwardly around her shoulders as they talked low. He was probably trying to coax her into action before he had no choice but to throw her in the bathtub and pour buckets of water on her.

“Carlos here?” Mal asked.

“In the hall,” Jay said.

Mal went downstairs and found him crouching in the hallway leading to the entrance. He studied the tiles newly laid into the floor. No tile was the same as another and some were just broken pieces of one. It appeared to be very shoddy work even by Isle standards.

“How’s it going?”

Carlos jumped, nearly losing his balance and falling forward. “Geez, Mal, you could’ve fried me.”

Mal crouched next to him. “Seriously?”

“Deadly serious,” he waved the remote in his hand, “We’re hooked up and it’s live.”

“You’re sure this time?”

Carlos bobbed his head, pleased with himself. “If anyone manages to get past the gate, the door and the trip wire, they still have no choice but to come this way. They step on the tiles and zap! Alarms go off and two awesome seconds of electric current run through their bodies before it cuts out and they drop.”

“Why stun? Why not kill?” she asked to see what he would say.

“Well I wouldn’t want to accidentally kill my queen because she forgot to step only on the spaces between the tiles. Imagine the fuss.”

Mal laughed and ran her fingers through his white hair with affection. “Good job.”

The blush rising in his cheeks made his freckles stand out more. He ducked his head, always taken aback by praise. He also seemed to notice that she was only in a shirt and panties. Mal looked on amused as he busied himself by putting his gear back into his toolbox.

“Besides,” he mumbled, “I wouldn’t want to kill your potential allies, even if they are coming to steal from you or murder you in your bed.”

Her smile slipped from her face. She stood up. “You got something to say Carlos?”

He stood up as well, hugging his toolbox to his chest. He couldn’t look directly at her. His finger tapped the metal box in a nervous twitch. “I just don’t get why you’re being so…friendly with our enemies lately. Jay and Evie don’t either. It’s dangerous.”

“They are not our enemies,” Mal stated, “and none of you get it because I haven’t told you the plan yet.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Get Evie off the fucking couch!” she yelled, “It’s Phase One. Once that’s done we can move onto Phase Two.”

Mal turned on her heel and marched back to her bedroom. She shut the door, not wanting to hear the voices of her friends. They were the only ones she trusted, the people closest to her, and that meant they had the privilege of getting on her nerves.  

She ransacked her closet, flinging out articles of clothing. It was a particular outfit she was after. She put it on with care: a fisherman’s beanie she stuffed every strand of purple hair into, a gray hoodie under a beaten leather jacket, too big jeans and sneakers held together with yellow tape.

As Mal sat at her dressing table and picked up a jar that contained soot instead of foundation, she thought on her recurring dream. It was a pleasant dream right until the end, when each time she realized she didn’t belong to the seductive world she’d entered. That the sweet boy holding her hand wasn’t hers.

She rubbed soot on her cheeks, down her neck and in the rims of her ears.

Over time she had realized the boy’s resemblance to the then Prince of Auradon. And the meaning of the dream had become clear. Freedom was alive in the dream. Pleasure was there for the taking. Her deepest desires were made real for only a moment. And at the break of day Mal felt taunted, cheated, and more motivated than ever to achieve her goal: escaping the Isle of the Lost and taking what she wanted from Auradon. Even if that meant taking _all_ of Auradon.

When she checked herself out in the mirror she was satisfied with her appearance. She looked like one of the lowest of the Isle folk, a victim rather than a player, scraping the bottom of the barrel to survive. Evie was fond of saying that the clothes made the girl. She was right. No one would recognize their queen in these rags.

In the living room, a snarling Evie was lying on the floor again. This time it was Carlos and Jay on top of her.

“Hold her down!” Jay snapped.

“I’m trying!” Carlos whined.

While Carlos grimaced at the nails dragging down his skin Jay held Evie’s jeans and tried to put her legs into them without being kicked in the face. Mal raised an eyebrow. Unusual sight, teenage boys attempting to force a girl to wear her pants. She didn’t say goodbye. 

Feeble sunlight struggled to pierce through the clouds and make an impact on the day. On the streets, vendors and craftsmen called for the buying of their miserable wares, laundry was washed in tin tubs and hanged to dry by tired women, and people came out to eat and drink together on the tables and chairs crammed between the decrepit buildings. This was as happy as the people ever got. The mornings were the safest and most peaceful time, when some sanity could be felt before it was completely lost by nightfall.

Hands in pockets, Mal hunched her shoulders as she slunk down the street as if expecting to be struck. She had her hoodie up and kept her eyes on her feet, weaving around people like she loathed human touch. It was a risk, of course, to potentially paint a target on her back. But there was the tell-tale outline of a knife in her pocket, and if it came down to it they’d find it held by a deft hand. Apart from half-hearted catcalls and hoots, she arrived at a particular door in a narrow alleyway without incident.

She made sure no one was spying on her before knocking.

“Come on,” Mal muttered, “You’re home. You’re always home.”

Eventually the door opened. Shocking blue eyes in the face of a middle aged man looked at her oddly, in a kind of distracted surprise.

“Ah,” he said.

Mal gave a little wave. “Hi Dad.”


	3. Chapter 3

Jay was alone in Mal's living room when Evie, sultry and dangerous as a Bengal tiger, leaned against the doorway. He knew this would require a gentle touch. Lucky he had notoriously light fingers. But he was only human – and male at that – so he couldn’t help giving her a once over.

Her ocean-wave hair tumbled free down her shoulders. A mesh top covered her skin to the wrist but showed her black bra and toned stomach through the transparent material. She wore her poison heart necklace, as always, but a scarlet gem also winked in a belly button ring. A pencil skirt made of cobalt blue leather hugged the perfect curves of her hips and thighs. She was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. She could’ve sauntered up to any straight man, dagger in hand, and slipped the blade into his chest while he gawked at her.

Evie was looking at him from under her eyelashes, amused. Jay had been staring too long. He mentally slapped himself.

“I think going home and freshening up was just what I needed,” she smiled with painted lips, “I feel so much better now.”

She turned the full power of her melting chocolate eyes onto him. He shifted uncomfortably, unable to remember how he usually stood. What did he normally do with his arms? Did they really just _hang_? He tore his gaze from her and tried to find something interesting to look at.

“Uh, Evie…”

“Jay,” she purred, coming closer.

“I have a report to make,” he said, striding past her, “We should get to work – “

She took a fistful of his jacket and dragged him over to a chair that she shoved him into. Before he could blink she was straddling him.

“You know I don’t like to talk,” she said, “in moments like these.”

He kept his hands off her. Her mischievous grin only widened.

Jay chuckled nervously. “Ah. Evie. It sucks but…I’m just not in the mood.”

“You’re always in the mood. It’s what I like most about you.”

She leaned over and bit his earlobe. His fingernails dug into the armrests. The curve of her long neck was an inch away from his lips. Evie had a sweet scent, a yummy fragrance that followed her wherever she went. It clouded the mind. Jay was almost holding his breath so he wouldn’t get drunk on it.

Her hands wandered down his chest and, realizing where they were heading, Jay grabbed them. “Evie, we can’t.”

“Of course we can,” she laughed and tried to kiss him.

Jay held her back. “No, seriously. Stop.”

“Maleficent!” Evie cursed, “Why?”

“Well,” he smiled weakly, “Funny you should say that…but we’re not allowed to…you know…anymore.”

She stilled. The room temperature dropped to icy depths. “Not allowed? Who says so?”

Jay’s silence was answer enough. Laughing softly, Evie slid off his lap.

“That bitch,” she breathed, “that arrogant, selfish, manipulative…”

Jay held up his hands. “Agreed. Totally. But – “

“And you,” she spat, “You’re just whipped aren’t you? Tripping over yourself to do whatever she wants. Just like everybody else.”

Jay stood up, frowning. “First of all, I don’t let anyone force me into anything. Not since Dad left. Second, she’s the queen. And C, she’s got her reasons for butting in.”

Evie scoffed. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot, waiting.

Jay cleared his throat but nothing came out. Hades, he was sweating. The thief with nerves of steel and a quicksilver tongue was sweating. Why couldn’t Mal have done this? Oh that’s right, to quote her: “You’re the one screwing her and fucking us all up.”

“Well,” he said eventually, grimacing, “you…Evie you do this each time you’re feeling low. You come to me. And you feel better for about ten seconds before you completely lose it, for weeks. Because I’m not the prince you were supposed to have. Because none of this is what you really want.”

Evie stared at him. He was relieved to see no tears. In fact, he couldn’t tell what she was feeling at all.

“And then you pull yourself together,” he continued, “Until the next time. It’s not good for you. So Mal told me to break the cycle.”

Evie looked down, very quiet.

“Er. So, yeah,” Jay shrugged, “I guess what I’m saying is…no means no.”

Whatever was running through Evie’s head, she snapped out of it and looked at him. “You said you had a report?”

Eager to put this touchy feely stuff behind him, Jay hurried over to the books and papers lying on the table. “We finally got Zevon on board. Your hunch was right. He was making potions and the shit wasn’t magic, no matter what he’d tricked himself into thinking. When we blocked him from being able to restock his ingredients he was forced into withdrawal. He cracked like the nut he is.”

Evie shook her head and sat down to log the information. Zevon, that blustering, egotistical idiot had mellowed after Yzma left – suspiciously so. Now they knew why.

“To keep him in line all we have to do is threaten to withhold his fix.”

“Mal will be happy,” Evie grumbled, “At least someone is.”

Jay watched her open a heavy book and flick to an empty page. At least two thirds of the pages were filled with writing. On the book's cover a green "V" was engraved over a purple "W". It stood for: “Vulnerabilities and Weaknesses”.

                                                                                 33333333333333333333333

Mal sat at the tiny table and watched her father stumble around and try and make her a cup of coffee. To be fair, it was difficult to find what you needed in a kitchen/dining room/bathroom. If her toothbrush holder was a toaster and her toilet paper was kept in the fridge, Mal supposed she’d be lost in her own home too. It was a cramped home but it suited the man it belonged to.

Mal didn’t know her father’s name. He had many. Ace Gannon. Godric Maddox. For six months he even passed as a sheikh called Malik al Sarraf in Agrabah despite being blonde, blue eyed and so white he looked drained of blood.

Her father was tall, skinny and had almost angelic features. He seemed like a man who’d offer to help an old lady cross the street. No one could have convinced her that this man was her father. No one but Maleficent herself, who had let slip enough clues over the years for Mal to have pieced together where she could find him.

Her father tripped over a cereal box, making grain vomit out, before finally lying a mug on the table.

“Sorry about the mess,” he said.

“It’s a bit cleaner than last time,” she offered.

She looked down to see he’d given her a cold half-congealed coffee. A fresh steaming cup was still beside the kettle. He’d somehow mixed them up. He sat down across from her, gazing at her expectantly.

She pretended to take a sip. “It’s great, thanks.”

“So what brings you here Mal?”

“Do I need a reason to visit my dad?”

He looked blank. It was hard to tell if he bought it.

“So how’s your book going?” she asked smoothly.

He perked up a little. “I’m having trouble with the beginning. The origins of the Isle. None of us can know what those bastards were thinking exactly when they sent us here. But,” he said and retrieved his manuscript, a stack of papers bound together with big rubber bands, “In the first few years I spoke to my fellow exiles about it and I think I’ve made a decent go of it.”

Mal speed-read the first few pages. The first chapter was titled “After Happily Ever After”. It more or less said:

_The history of the Isle began with defeat. The most ingenious, daring and cunning people in the world had been vanquished because of quirks such as love, friendship or dumb luck. Naturally, these firebrands and innovators - dubbed “villains” by the victors - couldn’t stomach such a twist of fate. It was only a matter of time before they took their revenge against the “heroes”. Even death couldn’t contain their fury. Spearheaded by Maleficient and her dark powers, hell was cracking under the pressure of so many untamed souls._

_Sorcerers warned the King and Queen of this reckoning. The self-righteous anger of King Beast and Queen Belle was great, as well as the grudges held by the other heroes against the villains. And so the Isle of the Lost was created for villains both living and newly revived, as punishment – a polite word for vengeance – for thinking to twice cross the oh so adored heroes._

“Pretty cool,” Mal admired, “One day, maybe it will become a school textbook the world over.”

He glanced sideways at her. “Because of a Queen's decree, presumably.”

“Exactly,” she grinned.

“Is that your ultimate goal? World domination?”

“What else is there?”

“The simple life. Cons, frauds and spiteful schemes.”

Mal huffed. “No one will be able to live easy once they’re outside. Not when Mother is raging war. It’ll be eat or be eaten,” she looked into the dregs of her coffee, “I just have to escape before there’s nothing left of Auradon to rule.”

“The heroes won once before,” he pointed out, tapping his fingers on his manuscript, “They might have won again for all we know.”

Mal gestured at the ancient television in the corner, dusty from disuse like every TV set on the Isle. The one news channel they’d been allowed had been missing for years. Now there was just static.

“Within a week of the villains escape the whole island’s signal is severed,” she said, “There’s only one reason the royals would do that. They don’t want us to see them getting their asses kicked. Plus the supply ships have been bringing even worse stuff than normal, and less of it. The war is draining their resources.”

He steepled his fingers thoughtfully. She could see the cogs in his head turning. It made a shocking difference to his appearance. For the first time Mal could spy a resemblance to her own features.  

Mal took a deep breath. “Dad. When me and my crew get out of here…I need you to stay behind.”

“What?” He startled.

“I can’t bring you with me. You must know that,” she shifted uncomfortably, “Mother won’t have her past weakness walking around for all her enemies to see. She’ll track you down and kill you.”

He stared at her. “How…considerate of you. Thank you, but I’ll take my chances.”

“This isn’t a request.”

“Then don’t insult me. What’s the real reason?”

Mal clenched her jaw and stood up. “ _My_ enemies could use you against me. Auradon could use you. I can’t allow that.”

“No one on the Isle knows I’m your father. Why would anyone in Auradon find out?”

“It’s enemy territory Dad. I need to minimise all possible threats.”

Her father shoved his chair back and stepped away from the table, wiping his mouth as if he tasted something foul. When he met her gaze his eyes were painfully, piercingly, clear. “Mal, you were born here. Everything you’ve learned is from the Isle. It’s forged _your_ mind into a blade. But it has _crushed_ mine. Look at me!” he flung his arms out, “I used to part kings from their crowns, lead geniuses down the garden path and deceive the best magicians in the world! No scheme was too elaborate, no lie too bold. And now…I’m writing a book, a _book_ , to try and keep the dim embers in my brain alight. Don’t punish me for being your sire.”

“It’s not my fault you’re trapped here!” Mal snapped, crossing her arms, “Or that you were fool enough to sleep with my mother!”

He glared at her. “Living in this place is like swimming upstream in molasses. Getting Maleficient into bed was the only real challenge in all these years.”

“And the risk to your life?”

“The danger only made it more appealing.”

Already her father’s eyes were beginning to dull. He was retreating into himself, knowing this was a fight he couldn’t win. Looking at this fumbling man who’s brain had been fried by sheer boredom, Mal felt a swell of pity. And perhaps something close to guilt.

Mal couldn’t deny the brilliance of her father’s mind - it had won even her mother’s admiration. But like many of the villains, criminals and never-do-wells who’d been exiled, her dad had never been able to adapt and thrive as a prisoner. She was leaving him to a fate only marginally better than death.

“It won’t be forever,” she muttered, “As soon as my plans are seen through, I’ll get you out.”

She almost added: “I promise”. But a promise from her wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

He showed her his back and made a show of tidying up, moving junk from one pile to another. A thick fog of resentment and distress hung over him. Mal’s lips thinned. She left the apartment without a word.

Remembering that she was in disguise, she checked that the beanie covered her hair properly and shuffled through the streets. It was childish, but she didn’t _want_ a low profile right now. She wanted to howl with rage and make everyone flee at the sight of her. How dare her father speak to her that way! Couldn’t he see that it was best he stay here?

Deep down, where other delicate thoughts and feelings lay unacknowledged, Mal was hurt that her father didn’t seem to realize or care that the only reason Auradon, or Maleficent for that matter, could use him as a weapon was because Mal cared about him.

When her mother had left Mal hadn't been able to resist making contact with her father. It had been done in a fit of pique, a way to prove she didn’t give a damn about Maleficent anymore by reaching out to the man Mal had disowned and cursed to please her. But the secret meetings between father and daughter had become something she looked forward to.

Mal came across a camp of crude shacks. She stopped beside rusty metal sheeting, a part of a hovel belonging to a goblin if the sour smell was any indication. Before her feet was a puddle of black oil, spilled and forgotten. A thin film of wild color swirled on the surface, a strange streak of beauty in a hideous place. It was one of the closest things to a real rainbow that could be seen on the Isle. She frowned at it.

Her dad listened to her. He respected her. And there were little proofs of affection and pride that Mal had never before received in a parent. It was addictive; it gave her a high. As if she had sampled one of the “magic” mushrooms growing in certain Isle folk’s basements. It kept her going back to a man she knew was a liability. And so it remained Mal’s dirty secret, an error in judgement that belonged in the Book of Vulnerabilities and Weaknesses.

She hadn’t even told her friends yet.

“Hey, hey you!”

Mal turned and peered down at a small green face. Squinting back, the goblin exposed his yellow needle-sharp teeth. “What you doing lurking around my patch? Scram! Or I’ll take a bite out of you.”

Unholy light lit up Mal’s eyes.

The goblin shrieked and threw himself onto the ground. “Forgive me mistress! Spare your wretched slave!”

“I trust you’d have kept your forked tongue in your mouth if you had recognized me,” Mal said.

The goblin’s hide shivered in agreement.

“Keep this encounter to yourself and your head won’t become my new doorknocker.”

The goblin was still burying his face in the dirt when she walked away. She was glad to see the level of control she had over that race of monsters. She had adopted the goblins as her own when they’d been cast off by Maleficent.

Another betrayal that would prove a mistake for the Mistress of Darkness. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for the wonderful feedback. It guilt trips me into writing more.  
> I love Descendants. But to bring villains back to life just to put them on the Isle is plain crazy stupid. And cruel and vindictive. They were DEAD for goodness sake! Geez heroes, get a grip. So I edited it a bit: the heroes had no choice but to revive fallen villains because they were too powerful and hell was too full. There.  
> Let me know if you enjoyed the chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

Evie swept back the plastic sheets and stepped into the best and only hair saloon on the Isle, _Curl Up and Dye_. As ever, the inside was…interesting. Broken mirrors were pasted along the walls, forcing you to be happy with the makeover you were given because you had no way of properly critiquing it. The Tremaine family’s ideas on style were apparent in the framed pictures of painfully outdated fashion and hairstyles; Evie always averted her eyes from them, it was good for her sanity. A chemical lab bubbled in the corner, spouting out dyes and polishes for the business into glass jars. The lab had the unfortunate habit of blowing up; explaining why the saloon looked like it had been visited by a projectile vomiting rainbow.

Dizzy was at the table she used to design and make her creations, but for once her hands weren’t busy at work. She was slumped in a chair and didn’t look at Evie. She was staring at the huge oil painting of the long dead Lucifer, the Tremaine’s old black cat, taking pride of place on the wall.

“How is she?” Evie asked quietly.

Dizzy pushed up her glasses and made a sound of exasperation. “Silly hag won’t admit it. She says she’ll be giving me such a long list of chores tomorrow it will make my hair stand on end. But she didn’t _yell_ at me when she said it. That’s how I know.”

Evie went and put a hand on Dizzy’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Dizzy baby.”

“Hey, it was bound to happen,” she replied, shrugging, “and she would have left me the same as Mother, Auntie and my sisters if she could have.”

“I’m sorry,” Evie said again, “but I need to speak to her. It’s important.”

Dizzy waved a hand in the direction of the stairs. Evie squeezed her shoulder before she left her.

Evie squinted into Lady Tremaine’s bedroom. Moth eaten velvet drapes covered the windows and the only light came from a single lamp on the bedside table. Everything was covered in dust and a sickly note mixed with the heavy perfume in the air.

“The Evil Queen’s whelp,” a rasping voice said, “How dare you come in here?”

Calm, Evie dragged a chair over to the stately canopy bed. She drew back the bed curtains before sitting down.

No woman had been more dignified in old age than Lady Tremaine. But now the Lady’s sallow skin was sinking into her skull, her panicked dashes of makeup only making it more horribly obvious. Underneath the blankets Evie guessed her body was as thin and feeble as a child’s. She obviously couldn’t move or she would’ve sat up to tell Evie off. Despite all this, Lady Tremaine’s head was turned on the pillow to glare at Evie with surprising fire.

“Evening, madam,” Evie said.

“Get out.”

“Not until I speak with you.”

A short but terrible laugh cracked through the room. “Did my favorite ex-pupil send you?”

“Yes. Mal’s hoping you could give her one last lesson. So she sent me to take notes for her.”

Evie took out a pen and notebook from the satchel she brought with her and lay them in her lap. Her brown eyes gazed steadily at Lady Tremaine.

“Tell that girl she’s no longer a student at Dragon Hall and I’m no longer predisposed to give lessons. And what more could I teach anyhow?”

“You could tell us what you have learned over the years,” Evie replied, “about your fellow villains.”

Lady Tremaine pursed her dry, white lips. “Whatever could she mean by _that_?”

“You’re not one to share, madam,” Evie sighed. “I understand. But we thought, in your present condition…”

“Condition? What condition? I’m perfectly fine, now get out!”

The lady clutched her throat as fear made her tremble like a leaf. Evie swallowed hard. As much as she disliked her, it was difficult to witness such a formidable woman breaking apart.

Evie took a breath. “Did you know that your granddaughter Dizzy is our most valuable informant? Can you guess why that is?”

The old woman blinked at her.

“Her position as a hairdresser gives her access to all sorts of information. Anyone who’s anyone passes through here. And it’s really amazing how people let their guard down around her. People treat hairdressers like a priest, that what they say will be confidential. Or maybe they think she’s just ditzy Dizzy, not worth a second glance.”

Evie almost added "Like you did all her life", but it wouldn’t have helped Dizzy or what she had to do now.

“In the end,” Evie continued, “no one thought much of you either. Just an old woman who’d only slow them down as they made their escape.”

Lady Tremaine gritted her teeth, seething. Then just as quickly the fight drained out of her. “It doesn’t matter. I have no doubt Mal will see to it that this land, _all_ the lands, belong to the young and the wild.”

“You can make your mark,” Evie insisted, “even now. They’ll never forget you again if you tell us what you know.”

For a while, Lady Tremaine said nothing and stared up at the ceiling, seeming to become more gray and insubstantial as time stretched by. Then the pale lines of her lips opened and she began to speak, strength filling her voice again.

Evie struggled to keep up as she wrote down all she was told: the little known stories about the villains, the secrets, cover ups and embarrassments only a woman as insidiously patient and scheming as the wicked stepmother could’ve collected over the many years. Even Evie blushed or gulped at the things she was told. 

Eventually the old woman’s tales drifted into slow mumbling. Then her eyes fluttered shut and her face became smooth and at ease. Lady Tremaine failed to draw another breath and was still.

Lulled to her final sleep by one last spiteful act.

Evie put the new pages for the V&W Book into her satchel and stood up, stretching her stiff legs. She looked upon Lady Tremaine’s body and a strange feeling came over her. At first she saw her mother lying there, pale and shriveling like the wicked stepmother, and then it was Evie herself: face waxy and lifeless, beauty curdled into bitterness with nothing but grudges to comfort her in her dying moments.

For an instant, Evie had some understanding of the true nature of villainy. She stumbled out of the room, practically throwing herself out the doorway and crashing into the wall.

The oppressive atmosphere vanished. The air was never so crisp and clean and Evie took a deep breath of it. She could hear a racket from the street, an ogre was throwing a tantrum. The world returned to something recognizable. She shook off her weird thoughts and put it down to seeing a woman she’d known all her life die before her eyes.

Dizzy was sitting and waiting at the bottom of the stairs. She took one look at Evie before breaking into tears. Evie sat by her side and wrapped her arms around her.

“Oh Dizzy.”

“She was,” the young girl choked out between sobs, “the meanest, bossiest, most unfashionable Granny ever. I _hated_ her. She hated _me_.”

Her tears dripped onto the lenses of her glasses as she hung her head.

Evie gently took her glasses off and dried them. “It’s okay. You can be upset.”

“I have no family left now.”

Evie took Dizzy’s chin and turned her head to look into her eyes. “You have me. Always.”

Brushing back her multi-colored hair, Evie slid the glasses back onto Dizzy’s nose, making Dizzy’s eyes look huge and vulnerable as a fawn’s. Dizzy snuggled deeper into her side and Evie held her for even longer than she had sat with Lady Tremaine.

It was dark when Evie made it to Mal’s place. Evie found Mal where she often was, on the balcony outside her bedroom gazing at the sparkling lights of distant Auradon, brooding over her plans. Evie cleared her throat and Mal tore her eyes away with an effort.

“Got what we needed,” Evie said shortly.

“Well done.”

They looked at each other.

“Why did you send me instead of Jay?” Evie asked, “He’s the one who usually collects the data.”

Mal shrugged. “I knew you’d want to see Dizzy.”

“So _nice_ of you to allow me to see her,” she gave a sharp smile, “Who else am I permitted to see?”

“You can see anyone you like. You just can’t screw one of my lieutenants and make a mess of things.”

Evie marched up to Mal and poked her in the chest. “You’re not in charge of my life!”

“Someone has to be!” Mal snapped, smacking her finger away, “When you don't take a bath or change your clothes or get up from the couch, _someone_ has to put you back on track!”

Evie’s gorgeous face scrunched up into a scowl that would make an ogre flinch. “Big nosed fairy!”

“Spoiled little princess!”

“Wannabe queen!”

“Mama’s girl!”

“Freak!”

“Fat!”

Evie gasped in horror. She touched her stomach and looked down. Her eyes grew damp. “Am I really?”

Mal’s expression lost its coldness. She sighed a little. “Come on E, don’t do that…”

“It’s true I haven’t been getting much exercise lately…”

“I was just angry! I take it back!”

Evie didn’t listen and was busy patting herself down, trying to find flab.

Mal rolled her eyes and slung her arm around Evie’s shoulders so they were hip to hip. “If you’re getting fat then I’m turning into the tooth fairy.”

Evie couldn’t help giggling.

They turned to watch the light speckled horizon, so tiny a glimpse into the outside world, a mere sliver. It looked as alien as it did enticing.

“The young and the wild,” Evie murmured.

In the darkness she felt Mal nod beside her, seeming to understand what she meant.

After a while, Mal spoke. “I need you here Evie. Really _here_ , with me. Okay?”

“First Dizzy, now you. Do I need to write it out in blood? I’m not going anywhere without you guys.”

Evie jumped when she felt warm lips on the side of her neck. She looked at Mal. Seeing a dark fairy’s eyes, usually a hard emerald, go a soft meadow green was quite shocking. It never failed to melt Evie. She turned to face Mal fully before pressing her mouth against hers.  

Mal and Evie had kissed many times. Mal had wanted her first kisses to be with someone she trusted and she’d needed the practice for her past scheme to seduce Harry. And Evie was an excellent tutor.

The kiss was slow and effortless. Completely different to the desperate, dirty make out sessions she’d had with Jay, among others. That special zing of connection to Mal was as soothing as a hot chocolate on a sunless gray morning. A guilty pleasure no one else needed to know about.

When they parted Mal smiled and gestured to the window that led inside. “Come on. I’ll help you with organising the new pages.”

“The great queen will condescend to help me?” Evie teased.

“A queen keeps each and every one of her subjects in mind,” Mal smirked, “to the very end.”

                                                                    3333333333333333333333

There was a department in Auradon who’s entire purpose was to make certain that the Isle folk didn’t starve and were provided with bare necessities. For the most part, the only evidence this department existed were the boats that came every month to dump scraps onto the shore. But occasionally, the outsiders were forced to put their shiny boots onto the black sand and speak to the prisoners.

The workmen bunched together on the beach and stared uneasily at the ragged band of men and women. The expressions on the Isle folk were mostly bored and dim-witted, and not worthy of the hands hovering over tasers at the workmen's belts.

“Well?” an Auradon native spoke up, “Who is it?”

The Isle folk moved aside to show the long rectangular box on the ground. “The wicked stepmother.”

It was part of their job to open the coffin and check that the person there was really deceased, and no little goblins were trying to smuggle themselves, but this time there was a morbid curiosity about the end of this legendary woman. Wary of tricks, they lifted the lid.

“Yep,” one workman said, “That’s one dead villainess.”

Looking disappointed, as if they’d expected the old woman to have horns, they replaced the lid and heaved the coffin onto their shoulders. The coffin was carried up the boat ramp without further ceremony and Excalibur VI crossbows were pointed at the Isle folk until the boat launched and sailed through the barrier.

No one on the Isle knew what Auradon did with the bodies. There were plenty of rumors. Maybe they buried them at sea. Or dropped them in an acid pit. Or the brains were dissected for scientific study on the source of evil.

Mal had a better inkling than most.

That’s why hidden under the frilly cuffs of Lady Tremaine’s nightdress, clasped in her dead hands, was an envelope with the words: _For King Ben._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it. Feedback is lovely.  
> Quick thing: after much thought I've decided there are no guns in this world. I know they'd have the technology to make guns, they've got a 3D printer yeah, but guns just don't fit into this fairytale/magic based world. Maybe guns were never invented. Maybe King Beast and Queen Belle eradicated them. Whatever the reason, no guns will be showing up in this story.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you're going to like this chapter :)

It was midday, when the sun tried its hardest to shine through the smug gray clouds above the Isle. The marketplace was full. The vendors were only slightly less belligerent than the customers as they growled over the goods in the rickety stalls sprawling a whole street. All sorts of useful things were for sale. There were dried scorpions, bottles of fizz, fake gems, dictionaries with everything but the ‘bad words’ crossed out, make-your-own voodoo doll kits, electric eels swimming in tubs, foul-smelling fungi, mustache wax and a flood of potions, oils and ointments that weren’t magical but certainly had nefarious purposes.

Almost anything a never-do-well needed and could be scrounged up on the Isle was found at the market. Old coins, so rusted or worn that they had no faces, changed hands between customer and vendor with ungrateful grunts. Posturing aside, the day was relaxed as it could be; their guard was down when the first _schiing_ of a sword leaving its scabbard rose above the noise and made everyone’s head turn.

Pirates. Like greedy rats they seemed to appear out of every crack and hole until they were swarming the marketplace. They whooped and hollered, eyes fever-bright, as they waved their swords and sent people screaming and tearing out of their path. Chaos quickly overtook the market. Pirates gleefully kicked over barrels and cut down posts holding up canvases. People tumbled over and scrabbled through the mess and as they lay defenceless cold sharp steel was put under their chins until they gave up their coin. Some vendors tried to pack up their wares before running but the pirates zeroed in on them and bared their teeth in feral grins. Most abandoned their stalls in lieu of being skewered. Others only managed to save a handful of their belongings when they escaped.

Through all this confusion and anarchy, a low rhythmic chant came from the pirates and wrapped around the marketplace: “Uma, Uma, Uma, Uma, Uma…”

The Pirate Queen, daughter of the sea witch Ursula and captain of every pirate on the Isle, strode down the middle of the street and scrutinised the raid with cool eyes.

“Queen Mal will hear of this!”

A goblin crouched under a stall, his bulbous eyes glaring at her with impotent fury even as he cowered. She knew that this must be his stall. Goblins mostly made their money through coffee; and cans of expired instant coffee were stacked on the wooden bench.

Uma smiled at the goblin. “I wish I could see her face when she does.”

With a lightning fast kick she broke the stall and the cans fell in an avalanche on the squealing goblin. She sniffed and continued walking. Her crew were in their element. As she watched, they rifled through the best goods and proceeded to stuff their pockets and sacks full. When she passed them the pirates raised their swords to her or put their hats to their hearts. They had shit-eating grins on their faces like they had never raided the marketplace before.

But they had. Many, many times. It was the richest source for looting on the Isle and despite Mal’s best efforts she just couldn’t keep Uma out. _That_ was the only thing that brought Uma any pleasure. Not pillaging the same place for the twentieth time for items Uma couldn’t care less about, but sticking it to Mal.

And even that, she had to admit to herself, was getting old.

“Uma. Uma! Look!”

She stopped and turned her head. Gil stood next to a jewelry stand and dangled a necklace for her to see. A small turquoise crystal was on a bronze chain and Gil must’ve thought it was something special.

“Do you like it Uma?” he asked hopefully, “I think it’d look real pretty on you.”

Because that’s what Uma aimed for in life. To look _pretty_. She opened her mouth to give a scathing reply.

Out of the corner of her eye there was a flicker of red. Harry Hook, in his long and dirty scarlet coat, was strutting in her direction. His pockets were near bursting and a string of raw sausages was draped on his shoulders and around his neck like a feather boa. He eyed all the stalls as if he was undressing a woman with his eyes, looking for his next steal. He hadn’t seen Uma yet.

Uma closed her mouth with a click. Gil was still waiting for her response with a goofy grin on his face.

“Thanks Gil,” she smiled as she walked to him, “How thoughtful.”

He bathed happily in her words and turned the crystal over in his hand. “It’s like the color of the sea, or how I hear how the water is supposed to look beyond the Isle – “

She pounced on him, smashing her lips to his. Gil yelped but didn’t fight it. Clutching his ridiculously soft hair as she kissed him, she corralled him backward so that they were in between the stalls and just out of sight.

She found that it was increasingly difficult to remember her reasons for doing this. Her body sighed and relaxed as Uma dragged her mouth over his and he nudged and tugged and then touched his tongue to hers in response, more gentle than she. You could lay many sins at Gil’s feet but being a bad kisser wasn’t one of them. His hands angled her jaw so the kiss could deepen and _Lucifer_ , who cared _why_ she was doing this.

“Bloody hell. What are you doing?”

Gil jumped back from Uma as if struck, face red. Uma turned on her heel smoothly and arched an eyebrow at Harry.

“Do you mind?” she asked coolly, “I’m busy right now.”

Harry’s expression became even blacker. “Oh no, please, don’t let me keep you. If I’d known we were here to pillage the inside of Gil’s mouth, I’d have been the first to step forward.”

He turned his kohl lined eyes on Gil and the searing look was as lascivious as it was threatening. Gil blushed and stammered.

“Captain,” he bowed to Uma.

He tried to hurry past the two but Harry struck out and snagged Gil’s belt with his hook. Gil froze, eyes wide. Harry slowly stepped until they stood uncomfortably close, his stare intense. He took his hook back and unwrapped the string of sausages from his own shoulders and draped them over Gil with tender care.

Harry patted his arm. “Here yer are, mate. A snack for the road. But take care,” he grinned wide, “to keep your sausage to yourself.”

Uma snorted quietly. Gil looked anywhere but Harry as he mumbled his thanks before running away. Without a glance at Harry, Uma strolled past him.

She headed for her ship. She left the marketplace and the ruckus the pirates were still making. The imprint of Gil’s kiss faded and her thoughts curdled. Tonight, her crew would gloat and celebrate the day’s raid. She would have to sit on her throne, be presented with one third of the haul as tribute and pretend to give a damn about the crap they gave her.

She was nearing the docks when her instincts went tight with alarm. Her sword practically jumped out of her scabbard and into her hand as she whirled around and met the sword of her assailant in a crash of blades.

“You!” Uma gasped, “What are you playing at?”

Harry leaned more heavily into where his sword met Uma’s. His face was too close and his smile too blithe for the circumstances. “I’m bored. Play with me.”

“I don’t have time to give you lessons,” she snapped.

“Righty O. Then put away yer sword.”

Uma’s eyes narrowed. She wouldn’t disarm herself when someone else had a sword in hand. Not for anyone. And Harry knew it.

“I could have you walk the plank for mutiny,” Uma said.

“Them sounds like fighting words.”

“You want a fight?”

“Do I have to say pretty please?”

Uma headbutted him. Both their hats got in the way and fell into a puddle but Harry stumbled back with a gratifyingly painful groan. Wasting no time, she lunged for his side but Harry batted her sword away even as he shook to clear his head. Her blade flashed again and she sliced a bloody ribbon on his forearm.

“First blood to me,” she smirked.

He parried her next move while he backed up and she pursued him. “Haven’t you heard? Only ‘most blood’ matters.”

She cut empty air as he dodged and sidestepped her blows as gracefully as a dancer, refusing to go on the offensive. His posture was mockingly casual. She thrust and when he blocked her he pretended to pick his teeth with his hook, bored. Her teeth gritted. Harry was a slippery bastard and used mind games to best advantage. He would tire and frustrate her to give himself an opening and then he’d strike.

“Is this what people call a fit of jealousy?” Uma crooned.

The corner of his eye twitched.

Their swords a dizzying whirl, she tried to herd him against a wall but he slipped out of the trap. “Are you _this_ desperate for my attention?”

His retreat slowed and he blocked her sword with more force. A swordsman’s battle plan was in the eyes and Harry’s were burning now.

Uma gripped her hilt tighter. “If you want to better yourself ask Gil for some pointers. Believe me, _he_ knows what he’s doing.”

Harry charged with a roar and swung. She met the attack but the power behind the blow numbed her arm. Sweat beading on her forehead, she was forced to give ground as she fended him off. He growled. While their blades were touching he lashed out with his hooked hand. The move could either slice open an enemy's belly or seize a pirate queen's belt. But Harry’s eyes had given him away a split second before. Uma fell backward onto a crate and rolled over it to the other side, safe. Harry kicked the crate out of his path, his face terrible. Uma laughed.

Harry strode to her and twirled, his cloak a brilliant red flare, and swiped his sword high then low then high again. He raised his hook but she caught his wrist with her free hand. Swords grinding above their heads, they snarled into each other’s faces. Harry pressed harder and her feet began to slide across the soft dirt.

In two swift movements Uma pivoted on her left foot, giving him her back, and drove her left elbow into his side. He wheezed then yipped when she stomped on his foot. Stepping back and freeing his hooked hand, Harry aimed for her vulnerable heels with the flat of his blade and brought down his sword. At the same time Uma spun around and used the momentum to swing and bat Harry’s sword aside so powerfully that he lost his balance and toppled backward, an assortment of knick-knacks bursting out of his pockets when he hit the ground.

A wind-up toy came to life, a set of plastic teeth chattering near his ear. He grimaced at it. He tried to raise himself up but felt the point of a sword at his jugular. Uma peered down at him, chillingly calm.

Harry’s chuckle was a little nervous. “Uhhh…pretty please?”

“You’re dead. And there’s not a scratch on me.”

“That’s why you’re the captain.”

Uma’s mouth curved. “So true. Therefore after tonight’s celebration you can forget about sleep and scrub the deck from bow to stern until it shines.”

She kicked Harry’s sword out of reach. She sheathed her blade and retrieved her hat, shaking the dirty water from it.

“Did you know I’d see you with him?” he asked.

She just walked away.

The crew who’d been ordered to stay behind and guard the _Lost Revenge_ were on edge, their hands on their pommels, and they frowned at the sight of their captain alone on the dock.

“Captain,” Bonny cried, “We heard the clang of steel on the wind. Is everything – “

Uma flicked her braids back and walked up the ship’s gangplank. “It was nothing. Forget it.”

She disappeared into the captain’s quarters, craving privacy – something that was hard to find in a nest of pirates.

Her rooms would’ve been more spacious had they not been crammed with her belongings. It was like her own mini marketplace. Books and clocks of all sizes, half-decent carvings, urns, sea glass, tuneless musical instruments, candle sticks, a tangle of jewelery she never touched and much more filled the shelves and were piled from floor to ceiling. She threw her hat aside and laid her palms on her writing desk. She bowed her head and breathed deep. The sight of her things had reignited her irritation. She would be gifted more of the same tonight. But that wasn’t her crew’s fault.

She lifted her head and looked at her reflection in a mirror. She scowled at herself. There was nothing for her here. The Isle was dried up – how long until she was washed out?

She blinked.

A necklace with a turquoise crystal was around her neck. She raised her hand and toyed with the tiny stone. At what point between running his tongue over hers and cupping her chin had Gil clasped the chain around her neck?

Oddly charmed, she decided to wear it. Just for tonight.

She moved unconsciously to finger the other necklace she wore. The round spiral seashell on a short chain had a gold, metallic sheen. It was cold as the blackest depths of the sea to touch. And sometimes it glowed faintly with magic, the only object besides Maleficent’s staff to ever show a spark of life in their prison. Its power was too potent to crush completely.

She covered the shell with her hand and pressed it to her chest. She stared hard into her own dark, dark eyes.

“I’ve outgrown the Isle,” she said, “Like I outgrew _you_.”

Ursula’s throaty laughter sounded in her head.

Uma punched the mirror in an explosion of glass and drops of blood. She didn’t notice the pleased flicker of light from the gold shell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first sword fight!  
> Thank you for all the kind comments and enthusiasm.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to orientate yourself, a map of Auradon can be found here: http://descendants.wikia.com/wiki/File:Descendantspromo05.png   
> Or there's a bigger map here:  
> http://descendants.wikia.com/wiki/File:Descendantspromo04.png

From the head of the long table, King Ben rubbed the gold beast ring on his finger and looked at his advisors. Closest to him on the left was Fa Mulan. She was as composed as any well-bred lady, with her hands folded calmly on the table; this was at odds with her combat boots, armored pantsuit and the sword belted at her waist. At one time, Ben only knew Mrs Fa as Lonnie’s mother. Now she was an indispensable part of his Council.

Next to Fa Mulan was Princess Aquata and Princess Arista, the Sea Queen Attina’s sisters as well as Queen Ariel’s aunts. Ben had never known them to be anything but ill-tempered – he guessed most mermaids didn’t like their fins transformed into legs, even if they can’t get to a Council meeting without them.

Doc was beside the princesses, peering at his surroundings through his glasses and probably trying to recall why he was there. Only Doc had the luxury of a mug of hot apple cider to sip while they all waited.

“This is ridiculous,” Fairy Godmother muttered.

She sat on Ben’s immediate right, frowning at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. She crossed her arms and jiggled her magic wand irritably, causing sparks to drip out. The wand just so happened to be pointing at Ben and he eyed it uneasily.

“They’re only a few minutes late,” he said.

Fairy Godmother huffed. “ _Ten_ minutes late. If this was a party, they’d be first at the door. They’ve never been late to a party in their lives.”

She must have felt Ben’s curious look because she gave him a sheepish grin. “You must excuse me, Sire. I’ve known them so long, they’re like my sisters. I dare say I’m permitted to be a little short with them.”

“Dwarfism is a medical condition,” Doc came to life, staring suspiciously at Godmother, “and not to be laughed at with ‘short jokes’.”

The mermaid princesses snickered.

Fairy Godmother looked at Doc in dismay. “No, no, my dear Doc. You’re mistaken, you’ve misheard, that – that was not what I was – “

“Because I have dedicated years to educating the public about dwarfism and how dwarfs aren’t magical creatures, but littler humans who can suffer from serious complications due to their condition. And if I thought you were making wise quacks – uh, wizz whacks, wait, I mean – “

“Wisecracks?” Quasimodo offered shyly.

Doc smiled with relief at Quasi, who sat across from him. “Yes.”

“We were discussing an unrelated matter Doc,” Ben told him gently, “And said ‘short’, that’s all.”

Doc mumbled into his fluffy white beard and sipped his cider.

Ben shuffled the papers before him, checking for the dozenth time he had what he needed for this meeting. Against his will, his eyes wandered.

As much as Ben hated looking at the map on the wall, and knew it so well he could close his eyes and picture it perfectly, his gaze was always drawn to it. It was a solemn reminder of the stakes, but it hurt more than helped and Ben was tempted to order it ripped down.

On the United States of Auradon map, the northern regions beyond the Great Wall were completely covered in black dragon pins. The great cities there were in the total control of those heartless villains. Beneath the Wall, the black pins had grown like a cancer. Towering Heights fell soon after the island off its coast, Neverland, had been overrun. The latest conquest was the region of Camelot. The magic in that land was ancient and holy and Camelot’s people were renowned for their skill in battle. The fight against Maleficent’s legions had been ferocious. And futile.  

Now, with Camelot fallen, Maleficent was next door to the capital.

There were two reasons why Old Auradon had not yet been taken. One: the battle against Camelot had drained much of the enemy’s resources and energy. They were still recovering their full strength. And two: Camelot was not an ideal location to launch the last fatal strike. As one of the smallest regions in the USA, it was squeezed between the vast Summerlands to the east – full of the light magic most abhorrent to Maleficent – and Westerly, a mostly unpopulated region of feral woodlands. Camelot was a chokepoint; the land was too narrow for Maleficent’s entire force to use to invade.

There was a _crack_ as the doors to the council chambers opened. Ben saw Fa Mulan put a hand to her sword, ready for anything.

But it was only long faced Lumiere, announcing grandly: “Sire, members of the Magicals Adamantly Against Maleficent have arrived.”

“Thank you Lumiere,” Ben nodded.

Three short, oldish-looking women in puffy dresses and pointed hats swept through the doors with the buzzing energy of children and began talking at once.

“So sorry we’re late, oh, you would simply not believe the ordeal we had.”

“It never would’ve happened if Flora had simply followed my instructions…”

“Sire, please forgive our delay. It was unavoidable, completely unavoidable.”

Ben waved a hand to show no hard feelings. Flora, Fauna and Merryweather bobbed a curtsey.  

“I imagine it’s quite the story,” Fairy Godmother said.

Flora, the fairy who dressed in pink, went and kissed Godmother on the head. “Don’t be cross, please. Or you’ll wear away your magic and begin to look as old as us!”

Godmother swatted her away, but she was smiling. The women known as the Three Good Fairies sat down next to a blushing Quasimodo after giving him hugs and kisses like adoring aunties.

The three had been followed in by another fairy. This one was tall and beautiful; Ben thought of her as the loveliest creature in Auradon. She had wavy blonde hair, crushingly blue eyes and a pink mouth that always smiled faintly. She wore a flowy sapphire gown that sparkled like a field of stars, and paired with the delicate wings fluttering at her back, the Blue Fairy was a sight to behold.

She dipped her head as gracefully as a swan. “My liege.”

To his embarrassment, Ben had to clear his throat before he answered. “Welcome.”

She folded herself into a chair next to her fellow fairies without another word to anyone.

Ben jumped when a stick thwacked his seat. “Hey boy! Got any food in this place? I can’t think with my belly as empty as the wallet in my pocket.”

Mama Odie, a tiny black woman and priestess of voodoo, stroked the giant snake draped around her neck.

“A lunch will be served after the meeting,” Ben said as he stood, “Please, let me help you to your seat Mama Odie.”

“Oooooh, a king and a gentleman,” she crooned, and addressed her snake, “Juju, give him a kiss for me!”

The snake rolled his eyes.

Ben pulled out a chair and when Mama Odie sat she poked around with her stick, investigating. “Oh! I’m at the head of the table! Juju has a perfect view of you all.” The blind woman cackled, swinging her legs and showing her bare feet.

Ben sat back down. “Where is Merlin?”

The Three Good Fairies exchanged glances. It was Fauna, the green one, who spoke: “Your Majesty, Merlin is unwell today…and won’t be joining us.”

Ben nodded gravely. It worried him how hard the Camelot situation had hit the old sorcerer.

He looked in turn at those gathered. “There are a few updates on the Camelot front, but they are not surprising. More deaths in border skirmishes…” for a moment, those deaths pressed down on him; his subjects, people he was supposed to protect, were gone forever… “But that can wait. I’ve called you here to discuss an important development that could change the war as we knew it.”

Faces lit up with intrigue. Fa Mulan sat up straighter if possible.

Ben passed out copies of a letter. They read:

_To King Ben,_

_Knowing the villains as I do, I have no doubt you are losing a war you cannot possibly hope to win. This disturbs me and that may surprise you. But I share the same world as you and have no interest in seeing it in the hands of a madwoman. Many villain kids agree with me. Maleficent and her followers must be stopped, for all our sakes. I have a proposition for you. Meet me on the Isle of the Lost to discuss the terms of our alliance to end the war. If you doubt I would stand against my own mother, then you must know nothing of what we suffered at our parents’ hands on the Isle._

_See you soon,_

_Mal_

The council chambers erupted into shouts and protests.

“The sheer nerve of it!” the Blue Fairy exclaimed.

“It’s certainly strange…” Godmother said.

Quasi shook his head. “It’s a trap, it’s obviously a trap…”

“She must think we’re morons,” Princess Arista snorted.

“What? What is it?” Mama Odie demanded, “Juju can’t read you know.”

“It’s a message from Maleficent’s whelp,” Merryweather said, pouting, “Asking us to play the fool and release her from prison so she can join her mother.”

Doc squinted at his copy, confused. “That’s not what it says…”

“As good as, it does!” she snapped back.

“How did you come by this?” Fa Mulan asked Ben.

He addressed them all: “A week ago, the Wicked Stepmother’s remains were recovered from the Isle. The disposal team found this letter on the corpse and brought it to me.”

Flora frowned. “They should’ve notified us first. Disposal is one of MAAM’s responsibilities. We would never have bothered you with this.”

“It was addressed to me.”

“Well,” the Blue Fairy said, flipping back her hair, “It was good for a laugh at any rate. Shall we retire for luncheon?”

“Now you’re talkin’,” Mama Odie said, already halfway out of her chair.

“I believe…” Ben said, “This girl Mal might be sincere. I’m considering going to the Isle and speaking with her.”

From their horrified expressions, it was as if he had thrown them an evil potion and they’d fumbled and dropped it. They were watching it roll around the floor, waiting for the glass bottle to shatter and release disaster. Only Fa Mulan looked thoughtful.

Ben noticed all the fairies had turned pleading eyes onto Fairy Godmother. _Counting on her to make me see sense_ , he realized.

She turned to him in her seat and fidgeted with her wand. “Your Majesty, as much as I applaud looking for the best in others…perhaps the daughter of the Mistress of All Evil is not a prime candidate.”

“I’m not going to refuse someone’s offer of help because of who their parents are,” he said firmly, “Especially not when more of my people die every day and most of the rest live in chains.”

“She doesn’t want to _help_!” Princess Arista sneered.

Her sister nodded. “You’d have to be blinder than the voodoo woman to not see what her scheme is.”

It was Quasimodo who looked the most bewildered out of all of them. His best eye scrutinized Ben. “With respect Sire, why are we even debating this? We have a lot of problems already. Why do you want to add this witch into the mix?”

Ben raised a hand and the room settled somewhat. _Be strong_ , he told himself, _and convince them that this is the right course._

“Consider this: how did Mal know about the war? The Isle of the Lost is meant to be kept completely in the dark about the rest of Auradon. But she not only knew, she's also certain that we are losing. Badly. And I hope you don’t suggest that she’s in league with Maleficent…after years behind a magical barrier, on the crummy island her mother left her on to be as free and evil as she pleased. I think it’s clear there’s no love lost there.”

Ben took a big breath. “I believe the children of villains could have valuable insight into how their parents think. What their next move could be. How they might be defeated. After all, who knows them better?”

“And that’s a good thing,” the Blue Fairy said mildly with an arch of her brow.

“We need every possible advantage,” Fa Mulan murmured. When everyone looked at her, she lifted her chin and met their gaze squarely, “If it means freeing my homeland, I won’t throw away any opportunity.”

“We don’t need those terrible children,” Flora spoke sharply. The Three and Blue Fairy nodded, their wands glowing brighter from the strength of their feelings. “Good will triumph over evil because it _always_ does. As long as we keep faith, and you remain steadfast and true King Ben, then everything will turn out well.”

Ben rubbed his beast ring, trying to find the right words. The believer, the hopeful and purest part of him, wanted to embrace what Flora said. And fight how every past battle against evil was fought. Wait for the right enchanted sword. Call for your loyal animal friends. Break the spell. Kiss your true love.

Ben sighed. “I’m grateful for your trust in me, all of you. And if this was the first six months of the war, I’d agree with you Flora. But my heart is telling me that we’re running out of time and if we don’t do something _now_ , Auradon will be finished.”

There was sober silence as everyone digested this. Ben wondered if any of these legendary people could really believe failure was possible – while he was haunted by that future every day, all the time.

“It seems you have already decided on your course,” Fairy Godmother said softly.

Ben stood. “I’m going to the Isle to listen to what that girl has to say. We will reconvene after lunch and I’ll listen to your warnings and opinions, and we’ll come up with a strategy for the meeting. You may not agree with my decision, but I expect your support in this.”

The others stood as well, though the mermaids wobbled a little.

“We are your loyal subjects, Sire,” the Blue Fairy said.

Ben left the council chambers first, no doubt leaving the members of MAAM and the council to argue over his plan. They might forget lunch altogether, but Ben needed to keep up his strength if he was to face them all again.

He grinned when he entered the royal kitchens. He couldn’t help it. In war or peace, the kitchens were a well organised hub of chaos. Pots banged, pans sizzled over stoves, fruit and vegetables were chopped in a flurry of knives, dough was slapped onto boards and kneaded, and everyone acted like things were seconds away from ruin. And then they’d have to answer to Cogsworth.

“Ben my dear!” Mrs Potts appeared, holding a tray of tea and sandwiches. “How are you?”

The kitchen staff finally realised their king was nearby. They dipped into hurried curtseys and bows before getting back to work and ignoring him completely.

“Hello Mrs Potts,” Ben laughed, “I just came to get something I could eat in my rooms.”

“Oh! Well I was just doing the same for the Queen Mother.”

Ben’s grin dropped. “She’s back?”

“Yes,” Mrs Potts sighed, “And looking frightful, poor thing.”

“Put some more sandwiches on here and I’ll take it to her,” he said and took the tray out of her hands, “And do we have any sugar cookies? She loves those.”

“I think so. But what about you?”

“We’ll share.”

He found his mother sitting in her favourite armchair near the sunny window, hand propping up her head as she slept. She wore simple jeans and a jacket, so unlike the formal dresses she used to wear, and her hair was limp and graying. She looked so fragile curled up like this.

He tiptoed and put the tray down on the coffee table carefully, but she woke.

“Ben,” Belle yawned.

He bent down to let her kiss him on the cheek. “I brought you a bite to eat.”

She managed a tired smile as he poured her a cup of tea and passed her a sandwich. He sat in the other armchair and didn’t speak until she drank and ate a bit.

“How were things at the center?”

“Oh. The same,” she said through chewing, “Busy. There are so many refugees…and yet too few.”

“Yeah.”

Ben watched the memory of it begin to drag his mother’s mood down and cursed himself for bringing it up. He passed her a sugar cookie. “Try these. They’re fresh from the oven.”

Belle bit into it with pleasure. Both the tea and cookies were a rare treat due to the widespread food rationing. Belle’s color improved as she ate more.

“I didn’t realize I was so hungry,” she chuckled, “Aren’t you having any?”

Ben shrugged. “I already ate.”

After three cups of tea and leaving nothing but crumbs on the tray, Belle leaned back in her chair and relaxed. They talked of small matters, putting aside the big one. Ben knew she suspected something was going on and that he was working on a plan, but he didn’t want to tell her anything. Not yet.

“That uniform looks so smart on you,” Belle beamed, “So much like your father when he was young.”

“Ha, yes,” Ben said, “At least I _look_ the part of a king.”

“There’s much more to you than that. And everyone knows it.”

“I bet Maleficent disagrees.”

Belle leaned over and squeezed her son’s hand. “Oh Ben. This isn’t what I wanted for you. Your father worked so hard…you should’ve inherited a world free from villains. One that didn’t need magic to be beautiful. One full of opportunity. Things could’ve been very different…”

There were lines on his mother’s face; his father used to tease her, saying he loved them because he’s the one who put them there by making her laugh. Now those lines were caused by nothing but grief.

Ben put his hand over her own. “I promise you Mom. I’ll bring that world back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are messed up in Auradon aren't they?   
> You might've noticed that King Triton has passed away and now his oldest daughter Attina is queen of the oceans. Well they all have to die sometime don't they? And Doc is barely hanging in there. And where is King Beast ay? ;) Haha, death is funny.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shortish chapter, but I think you'll like it. Thank you for the wonderful comments you guys!

“You’re insane,” Uma said flatly, “Or stupid. Both, probably. Have you been snorting fairy dust?”

Mal said nothing and glanced out the window at the ancient graveyard surrounding the building. Rain was falling in stinging sheets, and the pirates and goblins outside shivered even as they slouched against headstones and glared, each gang trying to communicate swift, agonising death if it came down to defending their leader today.

Most of the Isle folk were behind locked doors and boarded up windows and it wasn’t because of the miserable rain. Everyone expected the talks between Mal and Uma to deteriorate into a gory battle.

Mal wasn’t going to let that happen. Even if she had to bite off her own fingers to keep herself from punching Uma in the face, she wasn’t leaving until she had the pirate queen on board.

Uma leaned forward in her chair and spoke in a mocking coo. “Has the weight of the crown softened your brain Your Majesty?”

“We can do it,” Mal said firmly.

“It will _never_ work.”

Mal exhaled. She gestured around them at the dingy classroom. The student desks had been shoved into a pile to the side and they sat in two teachers’ chairs, facing each other. “How does it feel to be back? I got a little teary walking through these halls again.”

Uma snorted at the change of subject and wrinkled her nose. “Yeah sure. I always _loved_ running the length of the tomb for P.E and listening to Gothel tell me my pout wasn’t big enough for Selfies class.”

“But think about how it all came about. Years ago, Auradon made an effort to educate us and fill our heads with junk. Then Dr Facilier twisted Dragon Hall until it suited us and there wasn’t a damn thing Auradon could do to stop him. The heroes tried to make us follow their lead and they couldn’t.”

“Oh I see,” Uma smiled, “You wanted to have this little chat at our old school to make your mad scheme sound possible.”

She leaned back when Mal stood up, her hand twitching toward her sword. Mal pretended not to notice and went to the teacher’s desk where a bottle of fizz and two glasses lay.

“The plan is bold but simple,” Mal said over her shoulder as she poured. “I promise Auradon to help them defeat their enemies. A promise I mean to keep. The problem is, King Ben and his do-gooders won’t want to do things my way; which is the one way to win.”

“I’d like to hear more about the _insignificant_ detail of how you plan to defeat your mother.”

Mal smirked as she walked back with their drinks. “It involves trust the king won’t be willing to give me. And an unorthodox use of magic. You don’t need to know more than that Uma. Not yet.”

She held out a glass. Uma stared at it.

“You’re not afraid I’ve poisoned it, are you?” Mal asked.

The pirate queen took the glass with a sharp smile. “I’m not afraid of you. Besides, it sounds like your grand plan can’t work without me.”

“And you can’t hope to leave the Isle without _me_.”

Mal dropped into her seat, copying Uma’s pose by crossing her ankles and leaning lazily back into her chair. She drank the fizz in dainty sips as if it were fine wine. Expression hard, Uma gulped down her drink. Both finished and threw their glasses against the wall.

“It’s funny,” Mal said, “If you hadn’t killed Ursula you wouldn’t have that necklace and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Uma stroked the gold shell, brows pinched in thought. “It won’t fool anyone Mal. If the king was suddenly in love with Ursula’s daughter they’d rip this thing off my neck and throw me right back here, no hesitation, no questions asked.”

“There are three reasons why that won’t happen. One, you won’t be coming with me as Uma, daughter of the sea witch. You’ll be Mira, the charming and polite daughter of some unimportant thief, but one of my closest friends. Of course, Evie will have to give you a makeover so that you look…less scraggly.”

“And what will you be going as?” Uma asked sweetly, “Because I don’t think there’s anything that could make you look less like a stuck-up bitch.”

“Two,” Mal continued as if Uma hadn’t spoken, “My mother must guess what happened when Ursula didn’t show that night. But I bet Auradon thinks she escaped with the other villains and is alive somewhere in the seven seas. They don’t know you killed her and they have no idea the necklace is with us. They won’t be expecting its magic. And I happen to know a couple of fashion obsessed girls who can glitz that shell into something unrecognisable.”

Uma seemed more interested in the grime under her fingernails, picking at it carefully. “And three?”

Mal leaned forward to the end of her seat. Her voice became low and intent, saturated with her eagerness. “You will convince that boy-king to tell no one about you: his one true love, his precious blossom. That if he wants to protect you he can’t tell anyone about the relationship, even those dearest to him, until the war is over.”

“And I also convince him to give you whatever you want.”

Mal nodded.

“If you had sea salt in your blood and could command the magic of the deep,” Uma laughed, “you’d try and take the shell from me and bewitch the king yourself.”

Mal was tempted to tell her there was no _try_ about it.

The classroom door opened and Gil’s head popped into the room. He blinked at them both.

“Everything okay in here? You need anything?” he asked.

“Gil, get out,” Uma growled.

“It’s just that the guys said you’d be tearing out Mal’s throat by now. And I said nah, but they said yeah, and I said no way, but they said why don’t you go see? So I said fine then I will – “

“Get OUT!” Uma and Mal yelled.

He cringed and ducked out, snapping the door shut. Uma put her head in her hand and groaned a little.

“Take a minute to get yourself together,” Mal offered, making a show of getting comfortable, “I’ve got nowhere to be. King Ben will be here within days, we’ve got plenty of time to waste.”

Uma shot her a glare and then stood up and went to the windows. She stood there a long while. Mal watched her reflection in the rain-specked glass, how she stroked her shell necklace absently as she mulled it all over. Mal never wanted the power to read minds more than at this second. Finally, Uma turned to her and leaned against the windows, crossing her arms.

“Let me check I have this straight. I spell the king and make him give you what you need to defeat Maleficent.”

“Then we’ll have kept our word to Auradon and we will officially be free,” Mal confirmed, “You can go and do anything you want. Sail on a real ship. Be the pirate queen of the _seas_ and not just an isle. Under no one’s thumb, ever again.”

Uma’s mouth curved in delight. She couldn’t hide her hunger; maybe she didn’t care to. Then she looked Mal up and down. “And what do you want out of this?”

Mal got up and slowly walked to her until she was a foot away. They both stared, unflinching. Mal tipped her head to the side as if inspecting the pirate. “I want the one thing you have that I don’t, Uma. I want the memory of my mother looking at me one last time and realizing her mistake too late. I _need_ to know what it’s like to watch my mother’s blood run across the floor as she lies dying because of me.”

Mal rested a hand against the glass, beside Uma’s head. She leaned in close enough for her breath to brush against Uma’s skin. “And if you double-cross me in Auradon before I get that…you’ll either become Maleficent’s third-rate minion and enjoy her tender mercies ever after, or you’ll be back on the Isle with no second chances at freedom.”

She stepped back with a grin, tone friendly again. “Provided I don’t find a way to kill you first, of course.”

“Of course,” Uma said. She released the iron grip she had on the pommel of her sword and flipped back her turquoise braids, the only sign the dark fairy had made her nervous.

“So,” Mal said, “Are we agreed?”

She held out her hand.

Uma, eyebrow arched, looked at it with even more scepticism than when she’d thought it held a poisoned cup. She met Mal’s eyes.

“It will never work,” she said again.

And she reached out and shook Mal’s hand.

                                                                        33333333333333333

Word that Queen Mal and Captain Uma had struck up a mysterious truce spread through the Isle of the Lost like wildfire. Most breathed a sigh of relief at the news. No more would the threat of pirate raids or a territory war hang over their heads. The normal business of stealing, plotting and fighting could go on without interruption.

But all the Villain Kids’ felt a shiver of apprehension when they’d heard. Uma had been the only one who could stand up to the Queen. And now it appeared Mal had brought her to heel. There was much speculation as to the how and why, but everyone agreed: the two of them united would take evil to a whole new level.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehe Really, I should be concentrating on other aspects of this increasingly complicated story. But all I can think about is how Harry will feel about this plan!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience!

Harry leaned against the stained wall of _Curl Up and Dye_ and scowled down at his boots. When he wasn’t scowling at Evie, that is. Evie ignored him completely and folded yet another dress that had been rejected.

“How’s it coming Uma?” she called.

The plastic curtain Uma was behind rattled. “This outfit is ridiculous!”

Evie sniffed. “That’s impossible. I have perfect taste. You’re just _shy_.”

The curtain swished and Uma stomped out. Harry scowled harder.

“ _This_ is the one,” Evie beamed. She grabbed Uma by the shoulders and steered her to a cracked mirror. “Even you can’t deny it.”

Uma looked sourly at her reflection. The pirate hat and heavy jewelry were gone. Her hair was in a half bun, the turquoise braids that weren’t coiled at the back of her head hung down her back. The short blue dress she wore had swirls of intricate gold beading in random spots, like stars. A plain denim jacket and high tan boots softened her look, and the silver and gold bangles on her wrists jingled sweetly when she moved.

“You look lovely,” Evie gushed, “Who would’ve thought it.”

“Remind me why we’re doing this again,” Harry snapped, unable to keep quiet a minute longer.

“To get off this pile of rocks, what do you think?” Evie asked. She appeared to see something in the mirror she didn’t like and nudged Uma out of the way to get closer to her own reflection.

“I’m all for that,” he said, “And I can see why it helps to spell that Auradon brat. But _why_ does she have to dress up for him? He’ll be sweet on her even if she’s the ugliest, grubbiest, most disgusting hag that ever - “

He noticed Uma’s cold eye on him. “…I just don’t get it, is all,” he mumbled.

“She’s not dressing up for the king,” Evie said while applying a new layer of lipstick, “It’s for the king’s court, who will ask less questions if Uma’s a babe and not a bloodthirsty pirate.”

Harry looked at Uma, hoping she would argue, but his captain said nothing.

Evie turned around and smiled. “Harry, if you have a problem with the plan, take it up with Uma, who will be brave enough to take it up with Mal. Or don’t come with us. There, problem solved.”

Harry straightened, using every inch of his height to stare down at Evie. “I’m Uma’s First Mate. Where she goes, I go.”

The blue haired girl laughed. “Not in Auradon. Not unless you want Uma to get found out. She’s supposed to be a simple thief – the most innocent one of us. You can’t hang around her waiting for captain’s orders.”

Harry stuttered. “What do ye mean? Our crew aren’t going to abandon her to that lot…”

Evie gave Uma a look.

“Apparently,” Uma said, dead eyed, “There’s only room on this adventure for two of my crew. I’m taking you and Gil and that’s it.”

“What?!”

“I’ve finished it,” Dizzy chirped when she bounced into the room, oblivious to the tension.

Evie clapped her hands. “Fantastic, Dizzy baby!”

“Ye can’t be serious,” Harry growled, “This is _Maleficent_ we’re talking about! Uma ye don’t even know how Mal’s going to – “

“Hook,” Evie hissed, “Shut it. Dizzy doesn’t need to hear this.”

“I’m not a kid anymore!” Dizzy protested, “You can tell me what’s going on. I’d be a big help. Maybe if I came with you - “

“No. Not yet,” Evie said.

The young girl shrank, hurt written on her face. Evie softened. She reached out, took what Dizzy had in her hand and awed. “This is beautiful work. It’s just what we needed.”

Evie dangled the necklace in front of Uma. A gold locket, studded with fake diamonds, had been built around the magic seashell. Uma swiped the locket, eyebrow raised.

“Just pop the latch,” Dizzy told her, “and the shell is free and you can bewitch as many kings as you like. Or queens. Y’know…if you swing that way.”

Evie giggled behind her hand.

“I don’t,” Uma ground out.

“Everything’s ready now. Mal will be pleased to hear it,” Evie said.

“Well as long as Mal’s happy,” Harry drawled, “Yippeeeee.”

Evie looked at him, blue eyes dancing, and spoke in a purr. “I thought you liked making Mal happy.”

Uma pretended not to hear but he saw her bristle. And he wanted to wrap his only hand around Evie’s delicate throat and squeeze.

Dizzy tugged Evie’s sleeve and pulled her into a corner. The two whispered together, Dizzy clearly trying to convince Evie to let her in on the scheme. By the blue haired girl’s stony expression, she wouldn’t get far.

Harry swayed on his feet, thinking, and glanced at his captain. She was at the mirror and had his back to him. Her bangles tinkled as she struggled to put on the necklace. It occurred to him that the last time Uma had put it on she had just killed her mother.

She bit her lip and grunted. She’d clasped it on but her hair was caught in the chain. Their eyes met in the mirror when he came up behind her. Her hands dropped. Lips pursed, Uma stood still as he carefully lifted her hair with his hook and untangled her braids with his hand. Then he trailed his hook and hand over her shoulders and stepped close until she was pressed against him. Harry could feel the wild heat of her. It stirred his blood, made him feel crazier than usual.

“Do you think the king will like what he sees?” Uma asked quietly.

Harry jerked back from her.

She hummed and ran her fingers through her hair, preening and doing an excellent imitation of Evie.

“I’m not sure what’s hot across the water,” she giggled darkly, “But men are the same everywhere, I guess.”

“Ye guess wrong. I bet that boy is like jello. Sweet and spineless. You’ll probably be tearing your eyes out in a week. Then you’ll be glad I decided to tag along.”

Her head whipped around, outraged, but he was already turning away and striding out the door.

                                                              3333333333333333333

The docks had been transformed. A huge pier, made of every scrap of wood and metal that could be salvaged from the Isle, now stretched out over the water, almost touching the force field. The boards went straight from the shore before curving out on the water, and on this large platform two chairs faced each other. They were heavy block-style chairs, built of twisting metal pipes and looked as sinister as they did uncomfortable. A patchwork canopy flapped above as a shield against the spits of rain.

“I have to admit Uma,” Mal said when she walked up beside her, “This is impressive.”

“It is. An impressive waste of time and effort,” she replied.

Mal shot her a smile. “We couldn’t meet the king of Auradon in your chip shop, now could we.”

“Of _course_ not. And I do as my queen commands.”

Mal tsked and swept passed her. “We’re the best of friends now, don’t forget. Go easy on the salt.”

Mal sat in the chair that looked toward the sea, the sweeping land of Auradon and the boats rapidly approaching. Jay went to stand to her right and Carlos stood beside him, twitching nervously. Evie was on her left and Uma crossed her arms, looking exactly like a moody pirate forced to wear a pretty dress, and stood beside her.

Truth be told, Mal was a little worried that Uma couldn’t pull this off. The pirate queen was tough as nails, had a quick temper and didn’t hesitate to plunge her hands into filth – she was someone you wanted in a knife fight, not a seduction scheme. If there’d been a sure-fire way in which Evie could’ve done this Mal would’ve picked her over Uma in a heartbeat.

There were four gleaming white boats, at least as big as Uma’s ship, cutting through the water sleek as sharks. When they slowed and glided to the pier Mal saw the men lining the rails, bearing Excalibar VI crossbows and pointing the weapons straight at them, the light glinting off wickedly sharp arrowheads powerful enough to pierce through chainmail.

“Is it too late to voice concerns about this idea?” Carlos said out the side of his mouth.

“Yeah,” Jay muttered, “I don’t remember us taking a vote.”

Evie shushed them.

One boat moored in front of them and the rest surrounded the platform and kept their engines running, ready to defend or flee with their king. Two burly guys in sunglasses put a gangplank down between the boat and the pier. Mal stood up.

The first down the gangplank was a young woman Mal immediately knew was dangerous. Dressed in tight battle gear of armored plates, green and brown Kevlar cloth and a reinforced hood that doubled as a helmet, she was around Mal’s age and walked with the liquid grace of a master swordswoman. Mal felt Jay tense. He’d undoubtedly be keeping an eye on that one.

The woman stepped aside to let the next person down the gangplank. He was very handsome despite the scar going down his cheek and Mal knew without looking at her that Evie was sizing him up for her own reasons. The man was dressed in the same uniform as the swordswoman; they had the Auradon crest sewn onto the left side of their chests, and Mal realized she was looking at the king’s royal guard. Another guard came down, this one had dark skin and cunning eyes and then another, this one older than the rest and large as an adolescent ogre. The four guards stood in a line, each glaring at the VKs as if they’d already done something unforgivable.

Mal exchanged glances with her friends. This wasn’t going to be easy.

She heard a step and looked up to see King Ben coming down the gangplank.

Yes. He was here. Finally. And he was staring at her.

She kept herself expressionless but inside she was strangely nauseous. It was unnerving, she supposed, to see someone you’d never met before and yet was so familiar. That stupid dream. She had to put it out of her mind.

The king wore a uniform as well but it was different. It was clean cut and navy blue with a jacket that had rows of gold brocade down the front. There was none of the armored gear his guard had. And no weapons. Did he want to put on a show of being unafraid of the VKs or was he truly not scared? She wasn’t sure which she’d prefer.

He stopped beside his guard. No one said anything. Everyone was looking at her. Right.

Mal cleared her throat. She was guessing that “hello” wasn’t going to cut it. “As promised, we’re unarmed and it’s just the five of us. The docks have been cleared and nobody else knows you’re here. Otherwise you’d be hearing lots of murderous screaming right now,” she paused, her lips quirking, “Welcome to the Isle of the Lost, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you,” he said.

She almost flinched. Even his voice was like it was in the dream.

The king stepped closer and reached out his hand and she realized that he meant for her to shake it like civilised people do. She took his hand firmly. When he let go she resisted the urge to shake off the feel of his touch.

They sat in the chairs. Mal’s friends loomed protectively behind her, just like his guards did over him.

“Let me introduce you,” Mal said and gestured, “That’s Carlos, son of Cruella.”

Carlos gave a little awkward wave.

“This is Jay, son of Jafar.”

Jay nodded an acknowledgement. The dark-skinned guard’s attention lasered onto Jay and didn’t let go.

“And this is Evie, daughter of the Evil Queen.”

Evie’s smile was blinding in its beauty as she curtseyed as well as any princess.

Mal let the silence drag for a beat. “Oh,” she said, waving a hand belatedly, “And this is Mira, daughter of…someone, presumably.”

King Ben looked questioningly at Uma. Her embarrassed smile amazed Mal because she’d never seen anything like it on Uma’s face. It was so…. _cute_.

“My parents were no one you’d know,” Uma mumbled before looking down and averting her eyes.

Mal had to rip her attention away from Uma before she made it obvious how creeped out she was. But her fears over Uma’s performance were gone at least.

“And you may call me Mal,” she said to the king as if it were a gift.

“Why are we here Mal?”

She saw one difference between the flesh and blood person before her and the one in her dream. The hazel eyes she knew were warm, loving and open. The real Ben’s eyes were harder and gave very little away. It made her relax more. She leaned back and crossed her legs.

“To see if we can work together. To stop a diabolical psychopath from wreaking ultimate destruction.”

“From what I understand, aren’t those words complimentary here? Something to be admired, not stopped?”

Touché.

“Although I’ve only ever lived on a lousy piece of it,” she said, “I’m part of this world too, King Ben, along with my friends. We don’t want it to burn. And, knowing my mother, it will.”

He said nothing, sitting still and regal as a statue, his handsome face very serious.

She smiled. “I admit my motives aren’t _totally_ selfless. There are conditions for us helping you to defeat Maleficent.”

“How? How would you defeat her?”

Her smile widened. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’ll tell you all about it…once my friends and I are in Auradon.”

His brow lowered. In the first sign of anxiety she’d seen from him, he absently rubbed a gold ring on his finger. “Do you know how much has been done to try and stop her? How many lives have been lost? All our armies, all our magic…it’s never been enough. Nearly all the Camelot Knights are gone. Sleeping Beauty and her entire family were slaughtered in the first month. My father…he is dead.”

She blinked. Her friends and Uma shifted on their feet. Even though they didn’t care about any of those lost lives it was still shocking to hear.

“I’m sorry,” she said with appropriate feeling, “I didn’t know.”

He looked hard at her. “How can you possibly hope to succeed where all of Auradon has so far failed?”

“When your enemy is that devastating you can’t win by overpowering them. You must bypass all that power and strike where it hurts most. And to do that you need the right tactics. Wicked tactics. Something you and your people know nothing about.”

“I won’t allow you to hurt any innocents,” the king said quickly, “Not even to defeat Maleficent.”

“No innocents,” Mal said with raised hands, “This is between us and the enemy.”

“What are your conditions?” he said finally.

“It’s simple. I take thirty of my goblins plus six of my friends, the four you see here and two others, with me to Auradon. We help you defeat Maleficent and her minions. And in exchange, you give us our freedom and promise never to send us back to the Isle. _No matter what_.”

A quick hiss came from the female guard. The guard who couldn’t stop glaring at Jay shook his head. No one seemed happy with the idea. What a surprise.

“You think I will trade the villains’ reign of evil for yours?” the king demanded.

Mal tipped her head and spoke in a thoughtful tone. “I think you want to deal with seven kids and a couple of goblins rather than my mother.”

He stood up and her heart leaped into her throat. She’d blown it. She had asked for too much. The king wasn’t that desperate and was going to leave, and she was going to be Queen of the Leftovers until she was old and gray.

But King Ben walked to the edge of the pier, put his hands behind his back and just stood there. Mal calmed her racing pulse and watched him.

“How do I know you won’t turn on me the second you’re in Auradon?” He asked without turning.

“My mother doesn’t want me,” she said softly, “None of our parents do. If I betrayed you, I’d have no where to go. And when she found me I’d be lucky to end up back here.”

He glanced at her and there was compassion in it. It grated, but she didn’t let that show. He could feel as much pathetic sympathy for her as he wanted. It could only help her cause.

She stood up too and met his gaze squarely. “I don’t want to go to Auradon to mess around, Your Majesty. I want to go and stop Maleficent once and for all. And I swear on my life, we will. Together.”

He went to her and she could feel him trying peer past her mask and find her dark desires. But she had meant her oath. And perhaps he’d heard her sincerity.

“Everyone told me I was crazy to come here,” King Ben told her, “That you weren’t capable of good. But I’m taking a chance on you Mal. Because it’s the only way. Because I believe that no one is beyond common decency. And I have to believe you’ll honor your word.”

The lie came to her lips as naturally as breathing. “You can trust me.”

He nodded. “Then I agree to your conditions. And you have my promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. Audrey's dead.   
> Did you like the chapter?   
> Please tell me of any typos, spelling mistakes or whatever. Whenever I finish a chapter I'm so excited to put it up that it might not be as polished as it could be.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love your enthusiasm for this story!  
> BTW, your reactions to Audrey's death were hilarious.

Dawn rose on the Isle, reluctant as always. Mal and Evie watched the light creep sluggishly through the window, barely making a dent in the darkness of the bedroom. But it was beautiful. Because one way or another it would be the last sunrise they’d see here. They could feel it.

They were lying in bed with Evie resting her head on Mal’s chest and her arm slung around the dark fairy. She never cuddled like this with any of her boyfriends. Being so infatuated with her, they might’ve let her if she asked. But she couldn’t stomach the idea of basking in the warmth of someone she’d soon leave, someone who’d shortly have a new hatred to nurse.

“Is this really happening?” she whispered.

Mal touched her wrist and squeezed gently. “Yes.”

“What if we fail?”

“I won’t let that happen.”

Evie breathed deep, wrestling with exhilaration and terror. She forced out a chuckle. “What if Uma’s so annoying that not even a love spell can make the king stand her?”

“Fuck the spell. You did her makeover. No one can resist your magic touch, E.”

The flattery was well-aimed, and she had to smile. She propped herself up on her elbow to look down at Mal.

“You worry too much,” Mal said, “Everything is going to go exactly as we planned.”

Evie kissed her. It was messy until Mal grasped some of her hair and made it slower, better. Evie sighed into her mouth before stopping. She got up from the bed and shoved her boots and jacket on.

“I’ve got to go to my place and get my luggage,” Evie said.

“You don’t need to go.”

“No, no, I’m feeling okay now. Thanks.”

Mal’s smile was wicked where she lounged on the bed. “No, I mean feel free not to bring any clothes at all. We’ll put you on the front line naked and the soldiers will have a collective stroke. The war will be won in a day.”

Evie went against all her childhood training and gave Mal the finger as she sashayed out.

                                                                         33333333333333333

Carlos insisted on holding Freddie’s arm and directing her every move, even though the voodoo witch gave him the heebie-jeebies.

“And don’t step on _that_ tile,” he said, pointing to it, “I don’t know why I picked it. It’s too hard to see …Careful! Watch it!”

“Carlos, I get it,” she huffed, stepping with exaggerated slowness, “Only step between the tiles. I’m not stupid.”

He gulped. “Yeah. But you didn’t see what happened to the rat that snuck in here. At least I think it was a rat. It could’ve been a bird. Whatever the thing I scraped off the floor was, the air smelled like burned hair for days.”

She shook him off when they reached the stairs and went up to Mal’s lair. He chuckled at Freddie’s expression and how she turned in a circle, taking everything in. Not many Isle folk had ever seen the inside of this place, that’s for damn sure.

“What do you think?” Carlos asked.

“It’s hideous,” she said.

“It’s great you like it,” Jay said, appearing in view when he shut the fridge door. He bit into the shrivelled apple he held. “Cuz you’ll be living here.”

“What?” Freddie yelped. Then she giggled nervously. “You must be kidding. I thought Queen Mal summoned me for…I don’t know, to be punished or threatened or something.”

Jay flashed his most charming smile, though the effect was spoiled by the half-chewed food still in his mouth. “You’re too paranoid babe. The only people Mal brings up here for a whipping are Evie’s exes.”

“You would know,” Carlos muttered under his breath.

Jay’s glare foretold a beating in Carlos’s near future; he hurriedly put Freddie between himself and Jay.

“In the name of the Other Side, will someone tell me what’s going on?” she demanded.

“We’re leaving the Isle,” Jay said bluntly, “Me, Carlos, Evie, Mal, Uma, Harry. And that moron Gil. For some reason. We’re going to Auradon – and we can’t leave the Isle with no one in charge. Everyone will kill each other. So Mal picked you.”

Freddie stared at him. “Oh.”

She stumbled to the couch and sat. She looked sick, or like she’d been given a zap by the trick floor.

“Questions?” Carlos asked, “Comments?”

“Only a hundred. Each.”

“You get three. Total,” Jay said, “We’re running late.”

Freddie’s mouth opened then closed. She took a deep breath. “How the hell am I supposed to run this hellhole? I’m not Mal!”

“That’s what this is for,” Carlos said. He retrieved the book from a table and showed it to her. She eyed the purple and green “V” and “W” on the cover of the thick book. “It has everything you need to know. Every dirty secret, embarrassing weakness and vulnerability of everyone on the Isle is in this book. It’s basically a How To guide for evil reigns.”

“Mal’s lent you her goblins too,” Jay added.

Freddie flicked through the book, her eyebrows rising higher each page until they nearly disappeared into her hat. “This thing might make me like reading. And Mal is just…giving it to me, without a catch?”

Jay shrugged. “We don’t need it. The important stuff about the people who matter, is all up here now,” he pointed to his head, “The only catch is that you have to use the book to hold the Isle together. And good luck to you. You couldn’t pay me to do it.”

Her yellowy eyes suddenly narrowed on them, making Carlos think of pins being stabbed over and over into a white-haired voodoo doll.

“Am _I_ in this book?” she asked.

Jay smiled wide. “Do you really want to waste your last question on that?”

She growled and fidgeted where she sat. Finally, she looked up again. “Why me?”

“I don’t know,” Jay said, picking up a duffel bag by the door, “All I know is Mal thinks you’re up for it. Don’t screw up.”

“Why do you guys get to leave?” she demanded, “What are you going to do on the outside?”

He wagged a finger. “Ah uh. Times up, Your Majesty,” and he walked away.

Freddie looked at Carlos. He sighed. “I shouldn’t tell you, but Mal will get to free the Isle if all goes well. And she’ll want it to still be in one piece.”

He saw the hope rise in her, the too-familiar longing. He had to turn away. He picked up his own bag but, unable to help it, he looked back. The voodoo witch was hugging the book to her chest, her brows pinched with worry.

“You’ll be alright,” he said.

“What if I’m not?” she asked, “What if…”

“Get some friends. I don’t think I’d be alive today if it weren’t for mine. I don’t think I’d want to be.”

He left Mal’s lair, or what was now Freddie Facilier’s lair, though not without singeing his sneaker a bit on that blasted tile that was too hard to see.

                                                                        333333333333333

Mal stepped out of the tunnel and arrived at the rendezvous point, a street on the edge of the Isle that was mostly burnt ruins thanks to Claude Frollo’s firebug phase shortly before his death. She ignored Uma, Gil and Harry and went up to the thirty goblins standing in a pack. The goblins had been bickering and poking each other but stilled immediately in Mal’s shadow. The largest one, over two-foot-tall, shoved his fellows aside and came to the front. His skin was a dirty green color and rough as sand paper. He had black eyes, floppy ears and a paunchy stomach that stretched his ragged clothing until he was nearly popping out of it.

The goblin saluted Mal. “My Queen, Captain Blibtogs reporting for duty. What an honor your royal nastiness. What an honor. Thank you for choosing me to lead this sorry band of snot-nosed grubs. I’ll make sure they don’t disgrace your foul name.”

“They better not, Captain. Or you know who will answer for it.”

He looked blank.

She sighed. “ _You_ will.”

“Right!” he barked, “Of course! I’d rather eat an ogre’s toenail clippings than disappoint your majesty! But uh….what are we supposed to do, exactly?”

Mal leaned down so she was in his face. “Whatever I tell you guys. And right now, all I want you to do is get in the car when it gets here and not make any trouble. Got it?”

Blibtogs saluted again. “Yes, My Queen!”

He scurried back to the goblins and started yelling orders at them. Uma walked up to Mal.

“I think it will take more than a rabble of goblins to stop the evilest villain in the world,” Uma mocked, “We might as well fall on our swords now.”

Mal ginned and flung her arm around Uma’s shoulders. “I don’t just have goblins. I have my sweet friend Mira to help me out.”

“That’s true. Mira would do anything for you,” the pirate grinned back.

For a moment they stood together like that; they would’ve looked like best friends if their smiles weren’t as sharp as knives.

Mal’s voice deepened. “We won’t be able to talk as freely once we’re there. People might be listening in. So remember: the second we can get you alone with him, spell him.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job. I’m not one of your creatures.”

Mal clenched her jaw, her grip on Uma tightening. Uma’s expression blackened.

“Oh look!” Gil cried, overly loud, “Evie’s here! And Carlos and Jay!”

Mal turned her head to see Evie strutting out of the tunnel, tugging along a neat little suitcase on wheels. Carlos and Jay were behind her, a duffel bag hanging off their shoulders, and they puffed and strained as they dragged oversized suitcases with them. Uma got out of Mal’s hold almost without her noticing and went back to Gil and Harry.

Evie came to stand next to Mal and flourished her hand. “I’m here!”

“Yeah,” Jay scowled, letting go of the suitcase, “and so is all her crap.”

“It’s not crap! They’re essential tools of femininity.”

“Your femininity has torn all the muscles in my shoulder,” Carlos groaned, cracking his neck.

“Poor babies,” she pouted, and gave both a smooch on the cheek. Jay was stoic but Carlos blushed and let out an embarrassed chuckle.

Evie gave Mal a once over. “Your design worked out nicely. Very villainess vogue.”

Mal nodded her thanks to her seamstress. She did love her new outfit. It was made from a leather which appeared solid black, only in the sunlight could you see it was a deeply murky purple and green. It had faint scaling, like that of a dragon, and black studs up and down the sleeved jacket. The folded leather collar was gloriously thick. And black material spilled from the back of her jacket in a train that just touched the ground. It was as if darkness itself had lovingly wrapped Mal up. She suspected she would miss her acid greens and putrid purples after a while, but this ensemble felt appropriate for the what was ahead.

Her friends and Gil also wore darker variations of their normal clothes. Harry had outright refused to give up his long scarlet coat. He’d said that anyone who thought he was a target would quickly find their intestines scrambled by a hook.

A stretch limousine appeared on the dirt road and the guys stopped grumbling. The goblins awed, tongues darting in excitement. It came to a stop in front of them and two other limousines, just as sleek and shining, followed. Hulking men wearing shades and suits stepped out of the cars, saying nothing, and calmly moving to take their bags and put them in the trunks.

Her friends looked at her. She smiled. “You ready?”

Evie squealed and darted for the car door. Carlos and Jay started shoving each other out of the way to get there first.

“Hey!” Mal said and pointed, “Boys are in that car. This one is girls only. Mira! Get over here.”

Uma shuffled to them shyly, the Mira mask fitted perfectly over her face again. She got in the car with Evie.

“BTW,” Mal called to the guys as she got in, “The goblins probably can’t all fit in one car. You’ll have to share with some of them.”

She shut the door on their groans and sunk into the plump limo seats.

“Wow,” Uma gushed, running her hands over everything, “I don’t think I’ve touched anything this clean before.”

A callous, dirty joke involving Uma and Harry sprang to Mal’s mind, but she didn’t voice it. From now on she’d have to rein it in when it came to “Mira”. The car started moving and they all jumped.

“That feels so weird,” Evie giggled, “But cool.”

“Yeah,” Mal agreed.

She thought of her dad and how she was leaving him behind, possibly forever if Mother killed her. She had gone to see him one last time and say goodbye. The visit had been the definition of awkward, with her dad barely speaking to her, and in the end she’d lost her temper and stormed out.

Mal pushed the memory down. She had to totally forget about him. No distractions.

“Ew,” Evie said, “These don’t look any tastier than what’s at my place.”

She had grabbed a few of the packets lining the limo’s shelves. They were long lasting dried food; mostly packets of various meat jerky, the rest were vegetables and a few fruits. The drinks on the shelves were bottles of water.

“Guess they don’t want to waste the good stuff on us,” Evie huffed.

“I don’t think they have much good stuff anymore E,” Mal said quietly.

“Guys!” Uma cried, face pressed against the window.

Mal and Evie looked out and gasped. They were driving on a bridge made of golden light, swirls of magic sparkles looping around them. They were already out of the Isle – just like that they were free from their prison.

“Look at the sea,” Uma murmured with such worship it must’ve been authentic, “It looks…”

Mal pounded on the screen divider. “Hey! Open up! Open up!”

The screen rolled down and the two men in front were visible, or at least the backs of their heads were.

“What just happened? How did we cross through the barrier?”

The driver held up a golden remote with one tiny button on it. “This opened it. And don’t get any ideas, witch, or you get a taste of my taser.”

“You don’t need to be mean,” Uma said, “She was just asking.”

The two men ignored that, and the screen rolled back up.

“Maybe Auradon won’t be very different to home,” Mal laughed.

“It’s not home anymore,” Evie sighed happily.

“No,” Mal said, determination filling her voice, “It isn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they. Are. Out of there! They're finally out of the Isle and never coming back (fingers crossed). The Isle was really fun to write, I'll miss it.  
> Frollo went out in a blaze of glory some time ago.  
> Mal's outfit is inspired by the dark swan outfit in Once Upon A Time.


	10. Chapter 10

The limousine had gone quiet inside. The three girls were looking out the windows and absorbing their first up-close view of Auradon. Mal felt stupid for being blown away by how green everything was. The faraway hills of Auradon had always been green from her balcony. But now…there were endless carpets of grass, bushes and trees bursting with every shade of emerald, jade and lime. It was blinding.

Evie was fogging up the glass with her breath as she peered out, eyes sparkling at every house or shop that went by. Uma was more dignified, now that the sea was behind them. She sat like a lady rather than a pirate and looked at their surroundings with polite curiosity. 

“A castle!” Evie squealed, tapping the glass as fast as a hummingbird’s wing, “Oh devil, a castle!”

A sprawling gray castle had appeared through the trees. It wore the Auradon flags as proudly as it did its ivy. The limo drove round the huge circular driveway and Mal saw a grander castle on the opposite side some ways away, cream-colored and palatial: Castle Beast, the royal seat and center of Auradon City.

The car stopped and the door was opened. Evie jumped out, dashing straight into the lions’ den without a second thought. Uma glanced at Mal, who rolled her eyes for the both of them. They stepped out after her.

An unusual mix of people stood waiting. Mal nodded at the king then ignored him for the moment and assessed the others. There were three women she had never met before and yet would know anywhere. Her mother’s ranting descriptions of them had been spot on. One was dressed in pink, one blue and the other green. The Three Good Fairies looked like ordinary grandmothers except for their gossamer wings and the potent sweetness they exuded.

_Though I wonder if they usually scowl at people like this_ , Mal thought dryly, _or if I am a special case._

A beautiful woman with larger wings towered next to them. She wore a glittering dress and a superior expression. Mal guessed she was the Blue Fairy. And beside her was someone even _bluer_. He was very tall and built like an ox, broad shouldered and bulging with muscle, and wore nothing but red harem pants and sandals – none of which was as distracting as his completely blue skin. He could only be the being known as “Genie”. He appeared bored, almost falling asleep, not paying any attention to Mal at all.

The last person was the famous Fairy Godmother. Mal recognised her from tv. She stood at King Ben’s side with a lovely smile that was a touch anxious. It was then Mal noticed her skin was prickling in warning and realized why: too many light fairies near her. And their wands were glowing, pure magic practically spitting out of the tips.

“I trust your journey was a safe one,” King Ben said solemnly, “Let me introduce you. Fairy Godmother this is Mal, Evie and Mira.”

“Hello,” Uma smiled hesitantly.

Evie beamed. “Wow. You’re Fairy Godmother, with the glass slippers and the balls and the perfect princes – “

“Yes, that is me,” Fairy Godmother said, “Hello children. I’m His Majesty’s principle advisor on the royal council. I hope we can get along while we work together.”

“I do too,” Mal said, “and I guess the rest of you are on the council as well?”

King Ben cleared his throat. “Uh, no Mal. These are members of MAAM.”

“MAAM?”

“Magicals Adamantly Against Maleficent,” the pink fairy, Flora, spoke coldly, “You could say we’re an elite force with a variety of responsibilities all aimed at opposing _your_ mother.”

Mal grinned. “In that case I owe you my thanks. You’ve been fighting Maleficent for a long time. It’s impressive. But it’ll be a relief to have some of that burden lifted, won’t it?”

“Oooooh why you little…” Merryweather stepped toward Mal. Fauna, the green fairy, grabbed her and held her back.

“I confess to not understanding why our king brought you here,” the Blue Fairy sneered, “But that is his affair. MAAM is ours, and _we_ don’t need your help.”

The king frowned. “Ladies, please…we’re all on the same side here.”

“Are we?” Merryweather crossed her arms.

Thankfully, the other limos parked and interrupted. A door whipped open and goblins spilled onto the driveway in a heap, screaming obscenities and fighting like angry cats. The guys got out of their own car; Harry held a goblin aloft by his hook, the goblin swinging his fists wildly as Harry tickled him and went: “coochie coochie coo”. Gil seemed to have made friends with two goblins and carried them on his shoulders. Carlos hurried to the lawn and wiped goo off his boots – explained by the burping goblin who stumbled out of the limo. The king and the light fairies stared agape at the chaos.

“Next time,” Jay snarled over at Mal, “Your minions go with you or they go in the trunk! I don’t care if they can’t breathe in there – “

He snapped his mouth shut and became motionless.

“Heh,” Genie said, “Now this is interesting.” The Genie’s eyes had become wider than humanly possible and were filled with sparkles. Suddenly he was tiny, the size of a bird, and in a flash was hovering over the goblins. He examined them through a little magnifying glass that appeared in his hand. “Goblins, if I’m not mistaken, or _Ickitus Goblanis_ to give them their scientific name. Native to the western parts of the Summerlands.” A goblin squealed when he flew too close and instinctively tried to bite Genie’s head off. Laughing, Genie zipped out of the way just in time. He nearly flew into Jay, who gulped and stared cross-eyed at the miniature Genie floating in front of his nose.

Genie laughed again. A puff of smoke and he was normal size and back with MAAM. “This should definitely liven up the castle! It was getting depressing round here. I vote aye to letting them stay!”

“There is no vote,” the Blue Fairy said, tone clipped.

He clapped. “Then it’s settled! King Ben, if you don’t mind, I’ll go now and show the goblins where they’ll be staying.”

“You just want to play with them,” Fauna sighed.

King Ben looked at Genie’s too-real puppy dog eyes and nodded, smiling slightly.

“Come with me my little friends!” Genie said.

Blibtogs appeared at Mal’s side and gave an indignant snort. “I only take orders from my mistress! Only the foulest fiends can command Captain Blibtogs.”

King Ben scrutinised Mal, who weakly smiled back.

“Take your troops and go with him Captain. Let the genie show you around,” she said.

“Yes, Majesty,” Blibtogs saluted, then turned to his brethren, “You heard her! In line you slimy sewer rats!”

With reluctance – though for different reasons – Harry dropped his goblin and Gil bent so his two new buds could jump off him. Harry’s goblin blew a raspberry at him before scurrying into a rough line with the others. “Forward,” Blibtogs yelled, “March! Left. Left. Left, right, left. Left. Left. Left, right, left.”

“Try not to make a mess please,” Fairy Godmother singsonged after them, “The carpet has just been shampooed. Did you hear me Genie?”

Genie made a vague gesture and led the goblins through the castle doors. Blibtog’s marching song mercifully became dimmer. Gil and Harry went to stand beside Mal. Carlos hit Jay’s arm. That seemed to wake him up and Jay punched him back, scowling, before both boys joined the VKs.

“Why did you bring those… _things_ here?” the Blue Fairy asked Mal.

“Those _things_ can be quite useful.”

“Oh, so it has to do with your master plan does it? Please, enlighten us. I’m eager to hear this.”

Mal felt everyone’s gaze sharpen on her. She looked at the king. “You want me to tell you the plan? Now?”

King Ben’s eyebrows went up. “Is that a problem?”

“Is that a….?” Mal put her hand on her hip, “Yes, it’s a problem. For years, my friends and I have been kept completely isolated, unable to learn anything about the war. We don’t know what Maleficent’s done or where she’s been, what land the enemy occupies, the number of soldiers, the movements of her lieutenants…how am I supposed to adapt my plan to this war when I know next to nothing about it?”

“What tosh!” Flora scoffed, “She’s stalling Sire. If this girl has a plan to defeat Maleficent you must make her tell us or send her back to the Isle!”

“The whelp probably doesn’t have a plan. If she does, let her prove it,” Merryweather said.

“Sure. Force me to speak so I’ll sound like an idiot,” Mal bit out, “and you get your way and have me booted before I’m even through the door.”

“Your Majesty,” the Blue Fairy implored, touching the king’s arm. His brow furrowed, uncertain. 

Fairy Godmother stepped forward. “Miss Mal’s request…is a reasonable one.”

Jay guffawed at the word “miss” and Mal spared a moment to glare at him.

Fairy Godmother continued. “She cannot speak on what she does not know. No plan was ever successfully realized without knowing the lay of the land.”

The Good Fairies opened their mouths, but King Ben raised a hand and stopped them. “You’re right Fairy Godmother. We must give Mal some time to learn what’s been happening. We shouldn’t rush into this blindly,” he looked straight at Mal, hazel eyes intense, “And I promised that her and her friends would never return to the Isle. I will hear no more about sending her back.”

The Blue Fairy snapped her hand back as if stung. “My king…”

He turned to Fairy Godmother. “Thank you. I’ll take it from here.”

She took the cue and shook her wand at the other fairies. “Come. Let the young folk talk. They don’t need us ‘cramping their style’, as they say.”

With a wave of her wand, the woman disappeared and in her place was a bobbing white light, bright as a moonbeam. The Three Good Fairies grumbled but tapped their hats with their wands and transformed into colored lights. Expressionless, the Blue Fairy swished her wand and became a silvery-blue light and together the fairies flew up into sky. The alarm bells ringing inside Mal faded into nothing. She exhaled. That had been sickening.

“Light fairies are exactly how I imagined they would be,” Mal said.

“I’m sure they mean well,” Uma piped up.

“They do,” King Ben said, “They’re just wary of…strangers.”

“Right,” Mal smiled thinly, “King Ben, you haven’t met Gil and Harry have you?”

The king reached out to shake hands. Gil’s grin was huge as he shook vigorously. “You’re strong. My dad always said you’d be a pretty face but wimpy. But you ain’t.”

“You’re dad?”

“Gaston.”

With an odd, unreadable expression, the king let go and turned to Harry.

Harry held up his hook. “I only shake with my left,” he purred.

King Ben chuckled a little and backed away. “How about we get you guys set up, huh?”

He crooked his finger to the men in shades who had accompanied them in the limos. The trunks were popped and their luggage was retrieved. Four guys were needed to carry those two bags of Evie’s. The front garden the king led them through had seen better days, it was overgrown and spotted with weeds. Mal eyed the golden statue of King Beast overlooking them all.

“If that’s your home,” Mal pointed at the cream-colored castle in the distance, “Then what’s this place?”

King Ben paused in front of the statue. “It used to be Auradon Prep, a boarding school my father created. Kids would come from every land and learn how to be the next generation of heroes – relying on technology, science and one’s own abilities rather than magic. But once the war started…everyone wanted to be with their families and try and protect their homes. So now this castle is used for war councils and intelligence briefings.”

He clenched his jaw and walked on.

The castle’s interior was panelled walls and high beams of rich, golden wood. The ceiling was remarkably high and the light coming through the stain glass windows cast impressions of the royal crest on the gray floor.

“This is what it must feel like to be in church,” Hook muttered in disgust.

The royal guard had been standing inside waiting for their king. Their body language was much more relaxed than it was at the Isle. Their hatred of the VKs was also more or less hidden behind masks of calm. Perhaps they were more confident in their own territory. Two stepped forward, the Asian swordswoman and the dark-skinned, crafty looking guard.

“This is the head of the royal guard: Lonnie,” King Ben told the VKs, “She and Aziz will be your escorts during your stay here.”

“Escorts, really,” Mal said wryly.

Lonnie walked up to Mal wearing a non-smile. “Yeah, you know. So that you don’t get lost or find trouble you can’t handle.”

“We sure do appreciate that.”

The VKs backed this up with grunts and half-hearted nods.

“I’m the daughter of Fa Mulan and Li Shang by the way,” Lonnie said.

“And I’m the son of King Aladdin and Queen Jasmine,” Aziz grinned at Jay, “What a day for you huh?”

Jay shrugged, acting very nonchalant.

“And who might you be?” Evie asked, batting her eyelashes at the handsome guard with the scar. The guard didn’t move from where he leaned against the wall.

“Prince Chad Charming,” he said.

Evie gasped. “Charming? As in Cinderella’s charming?”

His lips curled. “Have you ever heard of anyone else named Charming?”

“Chad,” the king said warningly.

Evie was unfazed, twirling her hair while she stared at Prince Chad. The bulky guard who appeared to be near thirty years old spoke up with a gruff voice. “My name is Noah Michaels.”

The VKs waited.

“That’s it,” Noah said.

“Who are your parents?” Mal asked.

“Liam and Georgia Michaels.”

The VKs looked at each other to see who knew the names.

“They’re not anyone famous,” he snapped, “Not all kids have legendary parents.”

Uma’s warm laughter filled the room, drawing everyone’s attention onto her. She smiled at Noah as if they were already friends. “I know what you mean. My parents are nobodies too and people always expect me to be from something extraordinary because of who I hang with. It’s crazy.”

“Yeah,” Noah agreed, softening.

Mal inwardly smirked at the way the king was regarding Uma thoughtfully.

“Lonnie and Aziz can show you to your rooms. I need to arrange for your update on the war. Excuse me,” King Ben said.

He left, followed by Prince Chad and ‘Nobody’ Noah. Lonnie and Aziz led the VKs up one of the sweeping staircases, the men who were carrying their bags bringing up the rear. They were brought to a corridor with many doors and portraits of past heroes.

“There’s two people to a room. I guess the guys will pair up and one of the girls gets a room to herself,” Lonnie said. 

“Lucky you Mira,” Mal said.

Aziz herded the guys into their rooms and Lonnie opened the door for Mal and Evie.

Mal’s jaw dropped as she went inside. “It’s so – “

“Perfect!” Evie trilled.

“I was going to say pink. Extremely and unnecessarily pink. Are those _flowers_ on the curtains?”

“Yes. They’re called peonies,” Lonnie said.  

Mal vowed to herself that when she ruled Auradon she’d ban pink throughout the kingdom. And peonies were to be kept really, really far away from her, on pain of death. Evie fell onto one of the two canopy beds, nearly disappearing into it because of its plushness. She sighed dreamily. Mal huffed and pulled the curtains closed to block out the pesky sunshine. Their luggage was dumped at the foot of their beds and the sullen men in shades left. Lonnie lingered by the door.

“Yes?” Mal raised a brow.

“Just wanted you to know that either me or Aziz will be outside in the hallway,” Lonnie smiled, “At all times.”

“I feel safer already.”

Lonnie shut the door behind her and Mal sat at the edge of her bed. “Weird. It’s like they don’t trust us or something.”

Evie giggled and sprang onto her feet. She darted around the bedroom, investigating everything. “Look Mal. Free hand lotion!”

“Fantastic,” Mal intoned. In her head she went over the encounter between her and the light fairies, trying to gauge how much of a problem they were going to be.

“A scented candle! Mhmmm it smells like….I don’t know what. A dessert maybe?”

Who else was a member of MAAM, Mal wondered. They weren’t a part of the king’s council but were obviously influential. She had to find out who else would be protesting the VKs’ presence…

“What an awesome mirror. It doesn’t have a single crack in it. And for not being magic, it really shows off my good side…”

“Evie,” Mal growled, “I’m trying to plot. Can you keep it down?”

“Mal…”

“I don’t care about the stupid mirror!”

“Mal!”

“What?!”

Evie grabbed Mal’s chin and forcibly turned her head, just in time for Mal to catch sight of one of Evie’s big suitcases _shuddering_. Mal slowly stood up. The suitcase stopped moving. Evie turned to her, eyes wide and freaked out. Mal held a finger to her lips. Evie nodded fast. Tiptoeing to the bedside tables, Mal picked up a vase and a heavy book and gave the book to Evie.

Quietly, both girls bent down to where the suitcase lay. Gesturing for Evie to do the same, Mal took one zipper and Evie took the other and both carefully unzipped. Evie jumped back, book raised above her head and ready to strike. Mal raised her vase with one hand and mouthed: “Three. Two. One!”

She flipped the bag open and Evie screamed immediately and swung.

“It’s me! It’s me! Don’t hurt me!”

“Dizzy?” Evie croaked.

“Dizzy!” Mal yelled.

The girl nestled snugly in Evie’s clothes wiggled her fingers. “Hi."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You had forgotten about Dizzy already hadn't you? It was said in-story that people always made the mistake of underestimating her but you did anyway DIDN'T YOU?  
> ...I'm a little sleep deprived because I wanted to get this chapter out.  
> I thought it'd be interesting for Mal to have a instinctual reaction to the light fairies, being a dark fairy and their natural opposite.  
> Haha, poor Jay, it was a lot at once.


	11. Chapter 11

Dizzy stepped out of Evie’s suitcase and raised her arms and stretched. “Ow. That was rougher than I thought it would be. Weren’t those guys worried there might be fragile things in here? They threw me around like a sack of potatoes.”

Evie dropped the book she’d been holding, shaking her head in disbelief. “Are – are you all right?”

Dizzy cleaned her glasses with her sleeve then put them back on. “Yeah, I…Wow. _Wow_. You’re right Evie this place is perfect! It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I know right?” Evie beamed.

Dizzy touched the curtains of the canopy bed. “Just feel this fabric…that’s quality.”

Mal tossed the vase she’d nearly bashed Dizzy’s head with onto her bed, where it bounced off and shattered on the floor. “What the hell Dizzy? What are you _doing_ here?”

“I came to help you guys. And see Auradon, of course,” she said.

“Wait a second,” Evie said, peering into the suitcase Dizzy had been in. She glared at the girl. “Did you take some of my stuff out?”

“Well. There was so much, and I couldn’t fit…”

Evie’s hand jumped to her throat. “What did you take? My black leather boots? My hairdryer? Oh, please don’t say you threw out my makeup bag.”

Snarling, Mal snapped her fingers in front of her best friend’s face. “Evie! Focus! We’ve got bigger problems. Like how to convince the king we didn’t smuggle someone in under his nose.”

Evie blinked. “We didn’t know about it. She stowed away, it’s not our fault.”

Mal began pacing. “What does that matter? You saw what happened outside. The king’s trust in us hangs by a thread and everyone around him is waiting to call us out. And thanks to _her_ they now have a damn good excuse. And we haven’t been here fifteen minutes.”

Dizzy blanched at the way Mal was looking at her and stepped closer to Evie, into the shadow of her protection.

Evie hesitated. “Maybe if we explain that it was an honest mistake…I mean, he’s a good guy right? He might understand.”

“We have to immediately offer to send her back,” Mal said.

“No!” Dizzy clutched Evie’s arm. “I want to stay with you.”

“If you don’t go back it looks like we’re trying to pull something. It looks like we lied and tricked the king,” Mal said, “Which is exactly the impression we are trying. Very. Hard. Not. To give.”

Evie’s expression grew mournful. She faced Dizzy and automatically fussed with the girl’s hair, rearranging the glittery clips. “Dizzy baby. I told you it was too dangerous for you to come. Why didn’t you listen?”

Dizzy’s mouth had a stubborn bend to it. “You promised me I would always have you. You said you’d never leave me behind.”

“Our objective is more important than your hurt feelings,” Mal snapped.

Dizzy’s eyes filled with angry tears. “I’m not talking to _you_ , you – you half breed!”

Mal’s jaw dropped at the same time as Evie’s. Even Dizzy appeared shocked she said it.

Mal took a menacing step forward. “You little – “

Evie held out a hand, blocking Mal from getting any closer. “Stop! Both of you calm down. Please. This isn’t helping.”

Mal pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled. “I have to go talk to King Ben. The longer we delay the worse it will be for us.”

“What can I do Em?” Evie asked.

“You,” she replied, “Stay. And stop me if I try and kill her.”

She called out when she was in the hallway. “Mira! Get your butt out here.”

When Uma walked out of her dorm Mal turned to Aziz and Lonnie. She told them she needed to see the king, urgently. Within Aziz and Lonnie’s shared glance was a whole conversation, the kind comrades-in-arms are expert at. Lonnie had an expression that said “This better be good”, and led the way, Aziz staying behind.

“What’s going on?” Uma whispered.

“Something…came up,” Mal told her, “This will take some sweet-talking.”

“Got it.”

Mal and Uma were shown into a room with many armchairs, bookshelves and coffee tables. It was a mix of library and café and had an empty feel, the way rooms get when they weren't used enough. Five people stood around King Ben, tapping out notes on their phones as he spoke. Nobody Noah stood at the wall, alert and on watch. Four of the five excused themselves and scurried off, so consumed with carrying out their king’s wishes that they didn’t notice the VKs when they left. There was only one who was reluctant to leave: a drab, frumpy girl with a limp blue bow stuck onto the side of her head.

“But Ben,” the girl said, “That footage is classified ultra – even I’m not allowed to see it. And my mom helped acquire it. And as if _I_ couldn’t be trusted. Now you want me to show it to…”

“It’s necessary. Trust me.”

She licked her lips. “But there’s no protocol for showing classified info to…you know.”

“Sometimes protocol needs to be ignored, when it’s important enough,” he replied.

“But the paperwork alone means it will take at least – “

“Jane,” the king said with a touch of exasperation, “I know you can do this. Please make this happen.”

Jane looked at the phone in her hand, then the king and then back at her phone. “Yes, Sire.”

Brows pinched with worry, she nearly walked straight into Mal. Jane’s lips quivered and she made the strangled squeaking sound of a dying mouse. Mal’s smile – one of her most harmless truly, she didn’t show teeth or anything - sent Jane running.

“Mal, Mira,” King Ben said, coming closer and putting his hands in his pockets, “do you like the dorms?”

“They’re lovely,” Uma enthused.

Mal struggled to force out a compliment. King Ben smiled knowingly at her and this irritated her for some reason. She raised her chin. “I’ll be very comfortable there, thank you.”

 “You’re welcome. But you didn’t want to see me just to say that, did you?”

“No. Can we sit down?”

He gestured to a circle of armchairs. Mal flicked out the train of her outfit before she sat. She wasn’t so angry that she’d punish Evie by wrinkling her creation. Uma took a seat and Ben joined them. Lonnie stood behind Ben, crossing her arms, while Nobody Noah remained where he was.

Mal took a breath. “I hate to say this, believe me you have no idea how much, but I’ve discovered an, an unexpected complication.”

“What do you mean?” King Ben asked.

“Someone from the Isle smuggled herself here by hiding in Evie’s suitcase,” she winced as she said it. It was like ripping off a band aid. But the sting didn’t fade.

The king stared at her.

“What?” Lonnie yelped, indignant.

“Who?” Uma asked.

“Dizzy,” Mal told her.

Uma groaned. “Of course.”

“Dizzy?” the king asked.

“Dizzy Tremaine,” Mal said, “Granddaughter of the wicked stepmother, Lady Tremaine.”

His expression turned incredulous. “Am I supposed to believe you had no idea an extra person was with you?”

“I didn’t!” Mal protested, “I hadn’t a clue.”

“We had a deal Mal.”

“We did. We still do. Dizzy’s only a child. She was in love with the idea of Auradon and couldn’t stand being left behind.”

His voice gained a dangerous edge. “You said at our first meeting that only seven, including you, knew about the plan to come to Auradon. How did this girl know of it?”

Mal paused. There was no right answer to this. “I apologise. I didn’t mean any harm. This is a small hiccup with an easy fix. Send Dizzy back to the Isle today, this minute, and we can continue as agreed.”

King Ben leaned back and tapped the arm of his chair, considering. Mal ignored Lonnie’s scowl and held the critical gaze of the king.

“Your Majesty,” Uma spoke up gently, “Please don’t be angry. Evie is like Dizzy’s big sister. And she’s the only family Dizzy has left…now that her grandmother’s gone.”

He looked at her. She scooted forward, giving him a closer view of her warm, earnest eyes. “If you think she’s a scheming troublemaker, you’re wrong. That’s the Isle stereotype, no doubt. But like me, she never did anything to deserve the Isle. She was born there. That’s all.”

“She sneaked in and tricked all of us,” he said, “This isn’t a game, Mira.”

“You’re right. It’s war. Think about that: she smuggled herself into a _war_.”

He pressed his lips together. Mal and Uma waited for him to speak, neither daring to say more.

“The Isle must be an awful place if an Auradon under attack sounds more appealing,” he said finally.

Mal and Uma exchanged looks.

“It’s no picnic that’s for sure,” Mal said. “In fact, to my knowledge, there’s never been a picnic on the Isle. Or even a barbeque.”

He laughed once but, to her surprise, appeared sad. “I used to imagine what it was like for those on the Isle. How Auradon must’ve seemed to them.”

“And I guess,” he sighed, “I can’t blame Miss Tremaine for acting the way the rest of my people have: fighting to be with your family, no matter what.”

Mal couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Are…are you saying she can stay?”

King Ben nodded. “As long as she doesn’t get up to mischief or disrupt our mission, yes. She can stay, indefinitely.”

Uma grinned. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

He stood and Mal and Uma copied him. “If that’s all?”

“Uh, yeah,” Mal said, somewhat awkward.

Uma headed for the door but Mal was slower. She looked back at the king.

“Evie will be happy,” she said lamely.

He blinked and she turned quickly to follow Uma.

“Wasn’t that nice of him?” Uma said to Mal as they walked back to their rooms. Only someone who knew Uma would be able to detect the smirk buried under the fake, gushy voice she spoke in.

“You made a good case,” Mal replied.

“The king is known for his generous heart,” Lonnie said haughtily behind them.

“I’m sure he is,” Uma said agreeably.

“Should I check the rest of your things for more surprises?” Lonnie quipped, practically breathing down their necks, “Since you were oblivious to an entire person, there’s no telling what else you could’ve _accidentally_ brought with you. Maybe there’s a spinning wheel in your luggage or poisoned apples in your fanny pack?”

Mal kept her gaze forward. “What’s a fanny pack? It doesn’t sound PG-rated, does it Mira? Auradonians must faint at the sight of it.”

“You don’t know anything about our people,” Lonnie’s voice was hard, “We’re stronger than you could ever understand. We don’t shy away from looking inwards. We’re not afraid to try and protect more than our own self. And we especially – “

When nothing further was said, Mal spoke. “Well? Don’t keep me in suspense. Tell me why you are so feared and mighty.”

Lonnie didn’t speak. Mal and Uma stopped and looked back. Lonnie wasn’t moving, she stared blankly in their direction with her mouth hanging open. She wasn’t just still – she was frozen somehow. Uma went and waved her hand in front of the guard’s face. Nothing, not even the tremble of an eyelash. Mal suddenly felt ill.

Uma turned and she looked past Mal, her eyes widening. Mal whirled around.

“I can answer that,” The Blue Fairy said.                  

She stood in the middle of the hallway, holding her wand like a schoolmistress about to discipline an errant student. She tipped her head as she considered Mal, her eyes hard as diamonds. “Why are the people of Auradon to be feared? Because we never, ever let a villain get away. Not one. Every renegade, outlaw and sinner has been wiped from this good earth once. And they will be again.”

Mal nodded slowly. “Great. That’s what I’m here to help with.”

The beat of The Blue Fairy’s wings was as soft and languid as her laughter. She came closer to loom over Mal. “You? Even if you were sincere, what could you do? Where’s your spell book? Your staff? _Your wand_?”

Mal felt the point of a wand dig into her throat. Mal hissed. It was only slightly less painful than a lit cigarette burning into her skin. The Blue Fairy stared her down.

Mal refused to move even as the dark inside her rebelled at the contact with light magic. “My evil artefacts must be in my other pants. Sorry.”

The tip was pressed harder and she couldn’t say another word.

“You’ve not cast a spell in your life,” the Blue Fairy murmured, “A stunted darkling like you might’ve been worth something on the Isle. But out here, magic is what counts.”

She took back her wand. The pain vanished. Mal touched her throat, expecting to feel a blistering burn. But there was only smooth skin.

“You’ve set yourself against the most powerful practioners of magic in the land,” The Blue Fairy said.

“You’re mistaken – “ Mal began, but The Blue Fairy held her wand higher and silver sparks jumped out, and she shut her mouth.

“When you betray your true intentions to the king I’ll personally see to it that you and your _friends_ ,” she acknowledged Uma with a disdainful look, “go back where you belong.”

A wave of her wand and she was a bluish light again. The light sailed past Mal and Uma and circled Lonnie three times.

“ – don’t allow others to take advantage of our kindness as if it were a weakness,” Lonnie said, then paused. “Why have you stopped? The dorms are this way.”

The guard didn’t notice the fey light flying around a corner and disappearing. She didn’t notice that Uma and Mal weren’t where they’d been a moment ago.

The two VKs looked at each other and had a whole conversation in silence. Uma stroked her gold locket.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm warning you, I'm not sure if this story will go anywhere. But I hope you liked what I wrote!


End file.
